


Alchemy

by Spartacus_Lives



Series: Morgana's Redemption [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Awesome Morgana, Awesome Morgause, Bechdel Test Pass, Canon Era, F/F, Female Protagonist, Female-Centric, Glamouring, Incest, Lesbian Sex, Morgana back story, Morgause backstory, POV Female Character, POV Lesbian Character, Uther's A+ Parenting, Visions, Vivienne/ Uther affair, abusive guardian ward relationship, hurt comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 13:25:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 34,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16598759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spartacus_Lives/pseuds/Spartacus_Lives
Summary: Additional scenes added to the end of 'To Kill the King' starts off a series of chain reactions.  A changed dynamic between Uther and Morgana and Morgana's increasing awareness of her magical abilities.  Story spans 1x12 through to the end of season 2 Merlin, only adding in additional scenes, not changing the episodes.  Part 2 is my own original story because I didn't like how unsympathetic the show was to the oppressed magical people and I didn't like how Morgana was written the last few seasons.  This is Morgana-centric and full of femslash, Morgana/ Morgause is the main pairing. There is an abusive sexual relationship between Uther and Morgana.  Potential incest between Uther/Morgana, Morgana/ Morgause, genetic relatedness to be established in part 2-4.I've tried to write the characters in keeping with the show, and keep the magical elements, but make it more adult and put in the sex that the show leaves out.Only chapter 12 is Explicit the rest is probably just mature and mostly for the themes.  So if you are looking for some Morgana/ Morgause porn, just read chapter 12.Please leave me feedback, I really appreciate the chance to improve or know what is working.





	1. To Kill the King

**Author's Note:**

> **Author:** Spartacus lives  
>  **Author’s note:** Have you ever watched a series and liked it at the beginning and thought the idea was pretty good, then felt like they kind of cocked it up the last couple of seasons? That’s how I felt about Merlin. So, I’ve written this- one big story in four parts to end it off the way I think it should have.  
> Parts 2-4 are my own original story (based on bits and pieces from the myth in Merlin fashion), diverging more and more from the show.  
>  **Disclaimer:** I don’t own BBC’s Merlin, if I did, I would have made it more left-wing :)  
>  **Pairings:** In part 1 Uther/ Morgana (abusive), Morgana/ Gwen, Morgana/ Morgause (main pairing), Morgana/ Arthur friendship (for now) and Merlin loves Arthur (not much seen in part 1).  
>  **Spoilers:** Anything canon up to whatever episode the chapter pertains to is fair game.

##  **Chapter 1: To Kill the King (1x12)**

_**A/N:** _ _This is an extra few scenes added onto the end of the episode where Morgana and Uther are at Gorlois’ cairn when Uther is attacked by Tauren._

 

 

“I know I’m not an easy man,” Uther acknowledged, “My temper blinds me sometimes. There are things that I regret…”  
  
  
“Gwen’s father?” Morgana spat indignantly.  
  
  
Her rage at Uther had reached boiling point she could take no more senseless killing. He couldn’t be reasoned with. Uther would have executed Tom for sure. Tom’s escape only further convinced Uther he was right. If the king would kill Gwen’s father with so little proof, a man of such sweet nature, who had served loyally for years, no one was safe.  
  
  
They were kneeling side by side in front of her father’s cairn, the sun was just rising, and it was a windy day. Morgana was discreetly looking for Tauren or his men.  
  
  
Then Uther admitted he was wrong. Wrong to kill Tom. Morgana couldn’t believe it. Uther cupped her cheek and began to swear vows to her, to listen to her, that he needed her friendship and love to be able to rule this land, it was too much, Morgana felt ambivalent as she saw Tauren silently bringing Uther his death.  
  
  
She reacted on instinct, saying no at the last moment. Uther was alerted and managed to stop Tauren’s killing blow. They wrestled on the ground, while Morgana was paralyzed by indecision. Tauren got the upper hand, pinning Uther to the ground and drawing his dirk.  
  
  
“Die Uther Pendragon,” Tauren was determined as he put all his weight into his downward lunge.  
  
  
_No!_  
  
  
Morgana responded without thinking. Stabbing.  
  
  
Morgana’s tears streamed down her face. She had to admit to herself for the first time that she didn’t want Uther dead as much as she thought she did.  
  
  
_Uther can change, his love for me will change him. I can make him stop this persecution._  
  
  
Morgana couldn’t hear anything except for the rapid thudding sound of her heart. She looked down at Uther. Tauren’s blood was on his chainmail, the sorcerer’s body lying lifeless next to him. Morgana saw the dirk in her hand, she felt disgusted by it and released it from her grasp. Uther pulled her into him in a warm embrace. It made her feel safe. The wind was intertwining their cloaks, red engulfing green. Morgana clutched him, tight as if clinging for dear life. There they stood for minutes. Morgana buried her face in his shoulder.  
  
  
At some point the hug stopped being a hug, and comfort morphed into something else. Before Morgana knew what was happening, the king was leaning in. Uther was kissing her. But, not as a king to his ward, as a man to a woman. Morgana was stunned still. There was a hunger in his eyes she had never seen before. Everything happened so fast. She closed her eyes involuntarily. She felt Uther’s tongue between her lips. Morgana felt anxious. She wasn’t attracted to Uther like this.  
  
  
Uther’s hands found her waist. She was still clutching his arms. His stubble scratched against her cheek. Uther laid her down on the ground, almost gently. She caught the scent of sweat. Morgana could see Tauren’s blank eyes getting that tint of blue from the side on her vision. She felt sick.  
  
  
_I’m sorry, Tauren._  
  
  
Uther had an urgency to his movements, he peeled off his gloves, Morgana couldn’t remember a time when he’d done that. He knelt beside her. A calloused hand touched the skin of her collar bone, the other unfastened her hair. Uther released the clasp on her cloak and let it fall off her shoulders. It was the way he looked at her, as if he was starving and she was a feast, it sent a shiver through her.  
  
  
_He thinks I saved his life._  
  
  
Uther leaned down and brought a leg over her, as if she were a horse he was going to ride. Morgana managed to pull her mouth away from his to draw breath, she felt like she was drowning. His lips found the soft skin of her neck. It was too much. Morgana couldn’t inhale.  
  
  
_Not like this._  
  
  
Uther tried in vain to unfasten her green dress, when it didn’t immediately obey, he ripped the neckline. Her white chemise was exposed. He gaped at her chest, his hands were all over her through the fabric then he reached under Morgana’s smallclothes. Uther’s touch wasn’t tender, he acted as if possessed, as if giving into some animal instinct.  
  
  
_You wanted his attention. To distract him to get him out here._  
  
  
Uther didn’t take his clothes off, his scratchy chainmail crushed her chest.  
  
  
Morgana’s legs suddenly felt cold. He’d pulled her dress and shift up to her waist. Uther pushed her thighs apart with his hands, so he could kneel between. His touch on the sensitive skin of her inner thigh sent an unfamiliar kind of jolt through her. He fumbled with his sword belt and breeches.  
  
  
Morgana caught sight of Uther’s sword, the steel one he had thrust into the green earth only a few feet away. Uther thrust his other sword into her, and she felt a burning pain deep inside.  
  
  
A gasp escaped her lips.  
  
  
It hurt more than Morgana thought possible, it felt like being stabbed. Repeatedly.  
  
  
_Stop. Please, stop!_  
  
  
Her voice died in her throat.  
  
  
Uther wasn’t pained, he was enjoying himself. Grinding against her. His mouth sucked her neck. She stared helplessly at the pink sky as the sun rose.  
  
  
She kept holding her breath to keep herself from bursting into tears. She hated to cry in front of others. She had promised herself long ago to never give anyone the satisfaction of her vulnerability. Morgana cried alone, when she was safe. This was the last thing from refuge, and she wouldn’t give Uther any more pieces of her. Morgana closed her eyes and bit her lip and waited for it to be over.  
  
  
As Morgana blinked back tears, a memory came to her unbidden of her father teaching her sword fighting. When she first started, Gorlois would let her win to build her sense of pride. In this recollection, she was about ten and had been working at her skills for four years. Father was letting her learn her lessons now, letting his blows land, knocking her in the dirt to teach her to protect herself better. He said she could expect to always be fighting men who were bigger and stronger than she was, so she would need to be quick and smart.  
  
  
After the fourth time he knocked her down, she had gotten frustrated. She refused to yield, and with the stubbornness only she could muster asked what she could do?  
  
  
Father had beamed with pride, he had been hoping she would come to this question herself, “Keep them off balance, never do what they expect you to do.”  
  
  
_Father was wonderful like that, he wanted to prepare me properly for the world._  
  
  
What was significant about this particular day? It was the first time Morgana met King Uther up close. The king had visited Tintagel several times when Morgana was still small but she could hardly remember.  
  
  
Now that he standing in front of her, all Morgana saw was a man. Stern faced, with brown hair going grey. No bigger or stronger than many other man. _What’s so good about him that he gets to be king and everyone else must obey him?_ She had wondered. She really didn’t understand.  
  
  
Morgana was dirty and wearing breeches. Her hair was a mess. She dropped her sword, wiped her hands on her shirt and went to shake King Uther’s hand.  
  
  
Her father laughed, and she realized she must have done something wrong.  
  
  
Uther told her she should curtsy, which she did, red faced and embarrassed.  
  
  
The king put a hand under her chin to lift her gaze so he could get a closer look at her.  
  
  
“You look like your mother,” He commented, “I hope you will grow to be as beautiful.”  
  
  
She thanked him, in the automatic way that her etiquette had been forced upon her, then dropped her eyes to the ground. She didn’t like him. Something about the way his face looked when he mentioned her mother made her distrust him.  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Uther’s breathing became ragged and louder with his physical exertion. He was sweating and his movements had become faster, and stronger. His weight was pressing down on her, making her body move in time with his. It was as if he’d forgotten about her, and lost himself in his own pleasure, he wasn’t gentle.  
  
  
_This is my father’s grave._  
  
  
A single tear welled in her eye until she felt it escape and run cold on her cheek. And then Morgana hated herself, for her weakness.  
  
  
She’s wasn’t sure how long it was, too long, but Uther let out a sound that was almost a cry of pain and sunk his teeth into her neck. His body felt tense before suddenly relaxing, he exhaled, then he collapsed on top of her, still except for his heavy breathing.  
  
  
Morgana stayed still. Her hair and cloak were still blowing in the wind.  
  
  
_How long has he been thinking about doing that?_ Morgana kept asking herself repeatedly and couldn’t find a satisfactory answer.  
  
  
Morgana then turned her head just enough to notice the glow on the ground, the Mage Stone that was in Tauren’s possession was lying near her hand, she reached for it ever so slowly, to avoid alerting Uther. She slid it under the arch of her back.  
  
  
Morgana wasn’t sure how much more time passed, that look in Uther’s eyes was gone now. There was something else, _Shame?_ Uther quickly averted his eyes, taking in Morgana’s hurt expression. Uther dusted himself off. He pulled her dress down covering her legs, and tried to fasten the rip in the bodice, but the dress was ruined. He brushed Morgana’s hair off her back with his fingers and secured her heavy velvet cloak back over her shoulders and clasped it under her chin as if she were a child. _But he doesn’t see me as a child, clearly._  
  
  
Uther still wouldn’t look at her. He offered her his hand. When she didn’t move, he simply grabbed her wrist and pulled her to her feet, irritated. He sheathed his sword. He led her again like a child, back to their horses.  
  
  
Morgana noticed blood on the front of his breeches. _My blood,_ she comprehended.  
  
  
There were four horses, they had had two knights of Camelot with them, both dead now, _My doing._  
  
  
Uther lifted her onto her white mare. It was painful to sit. Morgana rode ahead of him, slumping forward to relieve her tender flesh. They traveled back to Camelot very slowly in total silence. Morgana cried silently.  
  
  
Morgana thought about when she first came to Camelot. Arthur was wonderful buffer back then. He was two years younger, attention starved, arrogant, but otherwise kind-hearted. He looked up to her and tried his best to cheer her up in those first months here which were the hardest. He practiced sword fighting with her, they would explore together, play awful tricks on the servants, steal food from the kitchens.  
  
  
She started thinking about this Palfrey mare. Uther gave Moonlight to her for her 11th birthday, Morgana's first birthday without her father. She hated Uther when she first came to Camelot and had no trouble letting him know to his face how she felt.  
  
  
Moonlight, was what finally thawed their relations. Uther had bothered to teach her how to ride himself. She had been riding for years by that stage, but this was the first young horse with a bad temper she’d ever tried to tame. Uther had always been sly, he used the excuse of lessons to get to know her, what she liked, and why, and that led to more gifts suited to her tastes, no one ever said he didn’t try.  
  
  
When Morgana woke this morning, she was sure she wanted nothing more than for Uther to be dead. For an end to the suffering of magical people, and anyone else accused of sorcery, an end to the grief of daughters who lost their father’s at Uther’s hands.  
  
  
_But I couldn’t. And now what?_  
  
  
Uther had promised to listen to her, to accept that she challenges him, that he regretted killing Tom.  
  
  
_And then… he… on my father’s grave…_  
  
  
More tears streaked down her face. Eventually the great castle rose in the distance, and knights met them on the road. Uther was telling the whole castle that she had bravely fought off five would-be assassins. _There weren’t five were there?_ Truth be told, she’d killed one. She had no idea what happened to the other four.  
  
  
_Uther is a good liar,_ Morgana realized. That thought unsettled her.  
  
  
It was strange to be congratulated for foiling your own assassination attempt.  
  
  
Morgana managed to dodge all of Gwen’s questions about what happened, her cloak hid her from the others, but Gwen would be the one to wash and mend her green dress. It was blood stained, ripped at the front, was covered in grass stains and had a smell to it... Morgana didn’t care, she pulled rank, she was the noble Lady and Gwen the servant, she ordered a bath.  
  
  
Gwen’s face tightened momentarily silent before she forced herself to reply, “As you will, my Lady.”  
  
  
Then Morgana felt horrible for being selfish. Gwen’s eyes were still red-rimmed from crying for her father. Gwen’s concern for her was genuine. Morgana softened, “I’m sorry. Please forgive me Gwen, I’m not myself.” She hugged Gwen and smiled kindly, “If you could, please draw me a bath.”  
  
  
Morgana waited until she was alone to bring out the stone that Tauren had dropped. It was very beautiful and old, and had a special feel to it, something she couldn’t quite describe. Morgana had found a few very good hiding places over the years, a wall behind her clothing drawers where a stone could be removed leading to a space in the wall. She put Tauren’s Mage Stone next to her lone other sacred possession, a necklace her mother had worn. It was a silver crescent moon interlocking three times making a jagged triangle, it represented something about women, it was a symbol of the Old Religion that were passed down mother to daughter. Her mother’s friend had sent a rider with it to Cornwall very soon after her father’s death. Vivienne had been dead for five years then, the brief message her mother’s friend had sent was; _You are old enough now to know the truth now and find your own path._ Morgana didn’t know what it meant at the time, but she felt the need to hide the necklace. Once she entered Camelot and found out how society was here, the intolerance and persecution, she knew she had been wise to conceal her mother’s gift and would live with the knowledge that her mother would never have been accepted here.  
  
  
Morgana stripped off, feeling shy about her body, she was bruised in a few places. The mark where Uther had bitten her neck was conspicuous. Morgana saw it in her looking glass. Blood had dried on her thighs.  
  
  
Morgana avoided everyone. She brushed off Arthur politely when he came to congratulate her on her gallantry. Gaius came by soon after she was dressed for bed. He wanted to examine her, for… injury he said, but she could see the look on his face, Gwen must have shown him the dress. She refused, adamantly.  
  
  
When she was finally alone Morgana broke down. Everything was irreversibly changed. _You were never safe here, it was an illusion._


	2. Le Morte d' Arthur (1x13)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**A/N:** Scenes added to the beginning of the episode._

 

Morgana faked sick.  Gaius offered her moon tea, which she refused, she didn’t want to confirm his suspicions, then she mentally chided herself, she might need that moon tea. 

Uther didn’t question her illness either.  He was keeping his distance.  Arthur visited her in chambers every day but only briefly.  He believed her sickness was genuine and was being considerate.  Gwen was her constant companion, the person she trusted, but Morgana couldn’t help but feel horribly guilty.  Gwen carried her loss on her face, and Morgana knew how she felt, and yet she had backed down when it counted.  Maybe Uther would keep his word, his love for Morgana might mean something, if it was love?

_Does Uther want to marry me?_

Morgana had no idea.   Or maybe it didn’t mean anything.

_He’s the king, he takes what he wants, when he wants._  

It’s not as if Uther had ever tried to arrange a marriage for her to anyone, and Morgana had never broached the subject since she herself had no desire to be married.  Morgana had never thought of Uther that way.  She refused to see him as any kind of father.  His stern way, his own culpability in her father’s death, he was always the enemy that she couldn’t get away from.  But it wasn’t always like that.  Uther had never been good at saying no to her.  When he clapped her in irons after Tom’s death, Morgana didn’t really believe he would leave her chained up in the dungeon and had been shocked once she grasped how alone she really was. 

Morgana’s nightmares got worse, she had them every night.  They all started and ended the same way, Uther taking of her body while she pleaded for him to stop, and after he grew disappointed, or bored or angry with her, she was imprisoned, or put to death.  Every night she would wake in a cold sweat just as the noose swung, or the flames reached her feet, or the axe fell.  She knew she was screaming in her sleep, sometimes guards would burst into her room looking alarmed.

Morgana cried tears of relief when her moon blood came, a few days later than usual, but it came.  She welcomed the sharp jabbing pain in her side this time where she usually cursed and complained at the unfairness of it all.

The Mage Stone comforted her, it sang to her. It made her feel that things would be okay, there was a magical power protecting her. She wanted to know how to use it. Tauren had spoken of alchemy, of changing lead into gold, which did not particularly interest her, but perhaps the stone could change other properties of other matter?

 

* * *

 

 

Merlin could hear The Mage Stone that eerie ringing sound it made.  He’d been able to hear it night and day since Tauren was killed.  He didn’t understand at first.  Then it dawned on him.

_Morgana has the stone._

He didn’t know what she intended, or if she was even capable of using it, but her having it at all, made him uneasy.  He’d been waiting for the right time, to search her chambers.

Morgana was out riding, Gwen was in the laundry, and Arthur was training.  Now was as good a time as any.

Merlin was always nervous about Morgana’s chambers, he didn’t know where she kept her things, and he had no good excuse to be in there. 

He listened again, he heard the high-pitched sound.  He went over to her vanity and began opening the drawers.  Hair clasps, hair brushes, bracelets.

He went over to the heavy dresser with the drawers, the sound was louder there.

The first drawer contained her undergarments. The second nightgowns.

He didn’t get to the third.

“Merlin!” Arthur’s shocked voice rang out, “What are you doing?”

The first drawer hadn’t entirely closed, it looked really bad, and Merlin could feel himself becoming flushed, and his ears wiggling. Merlin hadn’t mastered not looking guilty.

Arthur looked at the open drawer full of Morgana’s small clothes, then back at Merlin.

_At least it doesn’t look like what I was_ actually _doing.  Or is this worse?_

The look on Arthur’s face, said it was worse.  “Merlin, I tend to think of you as harmless, socially awkward, and weird,” Arthur continued, “But harmless.”

“I ummm,” Merlin couldn’t think of a better excuse.

“Spare me,” Arthur raised a hand ending all argument, “I know what you were doing, this stops immediately, do you have any idea what my Father would do to you if he found out…” Arthur shook his head.

Arthur troubled himself to search Merlin’s person for any undergarments he might already have stolen.

“You like smelling them?” Arthur asked.

Merlin froze, nodding might have been safer, but he didn’t want to.

“I know she’s very pretty, but Merlin, come on,” Arthur sighed, “NEVER. GONNA. HAPPEN.”

Arthur became very stern, “I’m not going to tell my Father, but I shall have to punish you.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Why is Merlin in the stocks?” Morgana casually asked Arthur as she saw him on his way out to training.  She’d seen Arthur’s servant having rotten vegetables thrown at him, again as she returned from her ride.   Surely, he couldn’t have done anything to warrant such frequent humiliation.

“You must be the only person in the castle who hasn’t heard,” Arthur sounded amused, “Merlin was caught in your chambers,” Arthur exaggerated the scandalous nature of it all, “Where you keep your smallclothes…”

Arthur didn’t go any further, the implications were clear.

_Merlin?!_

“My chambers?” Morgana was surprised more than anything.

Morgana prided herself on her ability to sense others’ innermost feelings, and she’d never felt Merlin’s attraction to her.  This was odd more than anything.  Morgana’s first concern had been Merlin finding her Mage Stone.  Then again, Uther had shaken her to her very core. She didn’t feel sure about anything anymore.

Arthur, ever chivalrous, “I take full responsibility for the actions of my servant,” He seemed quite uncomfortable, “I searched him myself, and don’t believe anything is missing, but if any of your… _belongings_ are unaccounted for…” Arthur was struggling to have this uncomfortable conversation, and her silence was adding to his embarrassment, “I believe Merlin has gotten the message and will cease and desist in his… fascination.”

Arthur was oblivious to the reason for her silence.

He kept babbling, “He’s not a bad guy, just, you know, doesn’t know how to talk to an _actual_ woman,” Arthur was now defending Merlin, which was somewhat amusing.

Morgana nodded, barely.  She was still going through the possibilities.

Arthur reassured her, “Don’t you worry, I’m suitably punishing him, he’s lucky I didn’t tell Father!”

The very mention of Uther made her cringe.

“Thank you, Arthur,” Was all she managed to say in the end.

 

 

* * *

 

It came in as clear as day.  A creature with the head of a snake, and the body of a spotted cat with claws.  Arthur was going to die.  Morgana could barely see straight, for fear, but she knew she had to warn him, stop him from going at all costs.  She ran from her bedroom, barefoot and in her nightdress, it didn’t matter, Arthur had to know not to go.

Arthur was with his knights out the front of the castle about to ride out.  He dismissed her, the crazy rantings of a silly woman with her girly emotions and ‘feelings’, why was he such an arrogant jackass right when it mattered the most.  The world was full of magic how could he be so blind!

Merlin led her away.

Morgana wished she could have been clearer, but she was too upset to be more articulate. Morgana chastised herself for not forcing him to heed her.  She should have admitted she had a vision, no matter what the consequence.  If it would save Arthur’s life, then the cost was worth it.  Making him listen was the more difficult task, though.  He could be so… stuck!

_You are a silly girl ruled by your silly emotions._

 

* * *

 

 

And then Arthur had very nearly died.

When Arthur had finally woken, she wanted to hit him! And scream at him.

“What happened?” Arthur asked, opening his eyes for the first time.  He was in a sick bed in Gaius’ rooms.

“You were bitten by the Questing Beast,” Morgana forgot her anger, and hugged him close, “I was so worried.”

“I’m fine, Morgana,” Arthur said as if it was nothing.

Embarrassed by her fussing over him.  He was putting on an act though, Morgana could tell only because she knew Arthur so well.  His mouth and his hands betrayed just how truly rattled he was.

She often wondered when he just let himself feel scared or overwhelmed or angry?  Now was not the time to press though, he’d never admit weakness to her.

“Uther expects a lot of you,” Was all Morgana said in the end.

Arthur glanced at her in an unfamiliar way, as if she had put to words something he thought about a lot.

He said nothing, but Morgana could tell he was relieved.  Arthur squeezed her hand momentarily.

_How do I make you listen?_

“Arthur,” Morgana got his attention, “I knew it was going to happen…”

Her words were immediately forgotten though, because Uther called from the doorway,

“Arthur!” The king came into the room.

Uther seemed very relieved his son and heir would make a full recovery.  That wasn’t all, though, he had really suffered, huge guilt for Arthur’s plight.

But he would never say that to Arthur, to show him that all Arthur’s efforts to impress him, to prove himself worthy, were appreciated.

She wished Arthur stopped trying to win Uther’s approval.

_Uther isn’t the hero you think he is._

Morgana watched their interaction silently.

Uther clapped Arthur on the shoulder, a little stiffly.

“I’m glad you’re alright,” Was all he really managed to say with any feeling.

Morgana waited until Uther retreated from his emotions and his child.

Arthur seemed disappointed Uther hadn’t said more.

“He’s been very distressed,” Morgana supplied, “He won’t admit it now, but he was beside himself with worry, Arthur.”

She put her hand over his, and Arthur listened intently.  Arthur had no mother, so on the rare times, usually when he was injured, she comforted him, he seemed to really relish in Morgana’s warmth.

He leaned his head over, so that their temples' rested against one another.

“You know, he loves you, more than anything,” She said matter-of-fact.  She might hate Uther, but Arthur didn’t, and it was him she was trying to reassure.

Arthur pulled a face that said he didn’t believe her, but he didn’t make a joke or insist she stop talking either, which meant he appreciated what she was saying.

Morgana ended up running her fingers through his hair and stroking his forehead.  Arthur didn’t protest, he just let her.  He was content enough that he fell asleep in her arms.

What they were to each other somewhat defied classification.

Arthur would occasionally say she was almost his sister.  But Morgana didn’t feel that way about him, though he did annoy her sometimes.  They weren’t friends, they weren’t lovers, they weren’t family either.  Not to her.  But Arthur’s life, his happiness, and his future were all as important to Morgana as her own.

Morgana had come to understand upon reflection that Arthur was her hope, that things could be better.


	3. Chapter 3:  Before the Once and Future King (Between 2x01 and 2x02)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**A/N:** Doesn’t pertain to either episode but fits in this time period._

 

Just when Morgana was starting to feel like she had an ounce of control, everything shattered in an instant. 

“Dine with me,” Uther asked, with a hopeful expression on his face. “Me, and Arthur of course.”

Morgana hesitated for far longer than was polite in the presence of the king.

Uther continued, clearly uncomfortable, “I would be most… most grateful for your… comfort… I mean company…” Uther reached for her hand.

Morgana stiffened and retched her hand away. Uther’s disquiet did give her hope though, he did appear sorry, and ashamed of himself, it had now been nearly two months since Arthur almost died from the bite of the Questing Beast. Uther had made very little attempts to force her to do anything, only polite invitations and he kept accepting her refusals.  It was Arthur who was beyond suspicious at this point.

She relented, “As you wish, My Lord.” Then she immediately regretted her weakness.

Uther’s face lit up, he smiled so joyfully Morgana thought he was going to hug her, then clearly restrained himself.  Relief washed over his features, and he turned and left before she could change her mind.

Morgana ensured she was late to supper to guarantee she would arrive after Arthur.  The guards let her pass.  She opened the large wooden doors to see only Uther up one end, his food served out but untouched.  The same could not be said for his wine.

Uther spoke, “Morgana, good of you to join me,” He took a long sip from his silver goblet.  “Arthur put in his apologies, he’s sore from training today.”

Morgana felt her stomach roil.  She took the seat furthest away from him, the position of his queen at the opposite head of the table.

Her meal was served by the kitchen hands.  Morgana downed her first wine before eating a bite of food, she thought to settle her nerves, but it went straight to her head.  She needed her wits right now, she began to mentally chastise herself.

She had become so distracted, she didn’t fathom Uther had quietly walked up to her, and was now leaning over her chair, he took her hand in both of his, “Morgana, My Love…”

He never called her that.  Fear and panic set in.

They were alone, Uther had asked all the servers to leave and the guards were outside the thick double doors.

He kneeled, he was literally begging her, “I am so sorry, I don’t know what came over me… I know I shouldn’t have, I’m sorry, I’m _so_ sorry.”

Uther was near tears.  It was unsettling to see him like this.

Morgana didn’t know what to say, since her forgiveness would not be forthcoming.

He tried to embrace her, but she stiffened.

He continued, desperation cracking in his voice, “Please accept my _sincerest_ apologies, I never meant to hurt you.”

Uther thrust a velvet box into her hands, and quickly retreated to his meal.

Morgana remained still a long while before daring to look at the gift.  It was a necklace of diamonds set in a gold chain.  Very expensive.

It didn’t make her happy, it made her angry.  Uther thought he could buy her off, her feelings, her hatred, her silence.  She was just a simple-minded woman to him who could be distracted by something shiny and pretty.  She refused to acknowledge or put it on in his presence.  She hoped her slight angered him.

The rest of the meal was silent.  Morgana couldn’t eat, Uther ate happily, much relieved that he had now mended their broken fences. His reassurance that things between them were now fine, made Morgana livid.

 

* * *

 

 

Uther was on top of her, very much as he had been that day with Tauren, except they were both completely naked on a big bed, and Uther wasn’t so impatient or rough this time. 

He was kissing her. He ran his fingers through her hair.  Everything between them seemed so different.  Her legs were wrapped around his waist, while he thrust his body. Uther was grunting his satisfaction, and then…

Morgana woke suddenly.   She was back in her cold dark chambers alone. It felt so real.  Once awake her fear and hatred of Uther returned.  But while she was in it, she felt love towards him.  She didn’t know what it meant, but it kept happening.  In these dreams she didn’t seem to command her body, it moved of its own accord.   It was disconcerting.

This had started because of the stone. Morgana’s worsening nightmares led to her clutching the Mage Stone for comfort at night after she awoke screaming and sweating.  It had a strange effect on her dreams though, they became clearer, more like visions than flashing pictures, she began to make sense of what she saw.  These visions were warnings.

For a week it was just that same vision on the bed with him on top of her over and over again every time she closed her eyes as if she were really experiencing it. Morgana began to fret that Uther might take her away somewhere.  And this vision was a warning.  Perhaps Uther wanted to get her alone somewhere private so that he could…

Morgana's fear of Uther intensified. She wishing to avoid him no matter what.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Morgana's legs wrapped around Uther's waist as he rocked her slowly on top of his red cape placed in a clearing of the woods behind Tintagel’s thick stone walls.  Morgana knew those woods well; her father had taught her to ride there.  She had on a dark blue gown, but it wasn’t her dark blue gown, this one had pearls sewn into the bodice, and the sleeves were different.

“You are so beautiful,” Uther kept whispering over again into her ear, between kisses and caresses.

To Morgana’s own surprise, she felt herself take charge of the situation, her hands that had been firmly placed on Uther’s chest, demanded obedience. She pushed him off her, onto his back, straddling him.  Now, she was in control of their motions.  She moved her body against his in a way that derived her the most pleasure. 

“My king,” She smiled seductively, tossing her hair, “Does this please you?”

“I’m under your spell, your humble servant,” Uther managed to whisper.

Uther appeared to enjoy being subservient to her.  A desiring look painted his face, and overwhelmed noises of longing escaped his lips.  Morgana felt an awakening of her sensual feelings, her long dark hair, absent of curls in this vision, swung down teasing Uther’s face.  He struggled to control himself.  There was something satisfying and alluring about having so much power over him, like he would do anything to experience this joy again.  His attraction to her held its own kind of magical power.  Uther whimpered beneath her.  She dug her nails into his chest such that she left little red marks on his flesh.

 

* * *

 

 

And then Morgana was awake, her hands digging into the wooden arms of her chair in the dining hall at Camelot.  She was sitting next to Uther, who had touched her hand to get her attention.  She almost jumped out of her skin.  Morgana quickly gaged that she must have momentarily dozed off at the feast for William the jousting champion, who was drinking ale out of the cup he had won. 

A jousting tourney open to knights had finished earlier that day. Some knight, no one seemed to have heard of, Sir William of Dareah, impressed the competition in the lists.  Arthur was away unfortunately, it would have been good to see them compete as they appeared to be evenly matched.

“Our champion has won the right to the first dance with you, My Lady,” Uther announced in his kingly voice, he was wearing his crown and garbed finely, “Try not to fall asleep on him, many men would consider a moment of your attention a privilege worth risking their lives for.”

Morgana tried to pull herself together, despite the red creeping up her face, and the intense throbbing between her thighs.

“Yes, My Lord,” Morgana responded out of habit, obediently like a parrot, then she hated herself, but she got up and away from Uther.  Why did she always have to be the object to be won by men’s pursuits of conquering each other? They could have their fun but leave her out of it.  Maybe she didn’t want to escort this champion.  No one ever asked her what she wanted.

Morgana approached Sir William offering him her hand.  Formally, she was supposed to wait for him to approach her, but she felt bold and in no mood to observe proper custom.

William seemed in awe of her. He had not the slightest clue how to dance and spent most of the waltz stepping on her feet, then trying admirably not to step on her feet.  Morgana took pity on him, and brought his body in close to hers, touching chest to chest and hip to hip.   Much closer than was acceptable at such an event.  Morgana was satisfied to catch Uther’s look of shock and annoyance. 

“Just sway with me, in time to the music,” Morgana whispered into his ear.

William nodded his relief. It wasn’t waltzing, but every man in the room was envious of William at that moment.  The first dance was for the champion alone, and aside from the musicians on their harps, pipes and fiddles all the chatter and sounds of cups clinking, and footsteps fell completely silent.  Every eye in the room was on them.

The song ended, and men literally lined up to dance with her, but Morgana had met her obligation so she excused herself, retreating to the balcony.

Uther came out after her a short while later.  If he was seething at her behavior, she didn’t care. 

“Morgana,” He said, gripping her upper arm, to pull her toward him.

Morgana was facing him, but refused to make eye contact, she knew she was pouting too.

“Are you trying to embarrass me?” Uther asked sharply.

_Jealous?_ Morgana feigned ignorance creasing her brow, “Why no, My Lord?”

Uther’s grip intensified on her arm, he was shaking trying to hold back his rage.

Morgana shrugged off his hand, “I don’t feel in high spirits this evening,” She spoke formally, while taking a step back, “Put in my apologies to our honored guests, that I will retire to my chambers early.”  She walked away from him without waiting for his permission.


	5. The Nightmare Begins (2x03)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**A/N:** Scenes added to beginning and all the way through, should be obvious._

The drapes were open on the four-poster bed frame.  This was the room her parent’s shared, her father had kept an unmistakable tapestry on the wall over the bed head of an eagle in full flight.  The room was lit up by many candles placed on window sills and tables. They were both completely naked on the large bed, sitting up, Uther had crossed his legs, and Morgana was in his lap with her legs wrapped around his waist.  There was something slow and sensual about how they were joined together, a familiarity and a comfort that Morgana had never experienced in any form in her life. They were really were one creature, one body moving fluidly together.  They faced one another, so close, glancing into each other’s eyes between sensual kisses on mouths, faces, and necks.  Morgana was kissing Uther as if she craved his mouth. Enjoying his taste, his lips, his tongue, initiating their touch and leading him.  The feel of their collective ministrations made her feel flushed and sensitive…

“As it please the King!” A peasant man said as he stood in front of the throne.

Morgana jerked awake.  She must have dozed off again.  That dream was the most vivid Morgana had experienced. It was half a moon turn since the jousting tourney had ended that Uther had invited Morgana, rather formally, to a court session in the throne room.  She had reluctantly accepted.  Morgana felt safer knowing she would not be alone with him.  Arthur, Merlin, Gwen, Gaius and many courtiers were in attendance and of course guards.

She glanced sideways at Uther without moving her head from the petitioner.  Uther appeared not to be paying any attention either, he was flushed, and both his fingers were clawing intensely into his throne.  His breathing was slightly catching, and she could see the bulge coming from his lap, something she would have remained completely innocent of only a few months ago.

She heard the scraping sound of the stone singing to her under her clothing. Morgana suddenly recognized why she was seeing this vision, Uther was imagining her in this way, and she was somehow tapping into his mind.  

She sucked in a very audible breath, such that the entire court was distracted by her.  She didn’t know what to do.  Morgana froze.  She couldn’t stay, she mumbled, “Prey excuse me, My Lord,” to Uther as she was already standing and walking briskly from the throne room.  He must have allowed it, because no move was made to stop her.

Morgana threw herself on her bed as soon as she reached her chambers.  She put the stone back in her secret hiding spot.  Uther lied easily with his words, but his thoughts betrayed him.  He was biding his time.

Since the ‘Dinner of Awkwardness’ Uther had showered Morgana with even more gifts and continued to find excuses to be alone with her, many of which Morgana couldn’t avoid.  Last week Uther had asked for her opinion on a matter of state, he came into her chambers, saying he couldn’t decide on what to do.  It wasn’t true, he was indulging her, pretending to care about her counsel, because he knew she liked to be treated as a rational and intelligent equal.  She had fallen for it at the time, it made her feel important and appreciated, only identifying his real intentions afterward.  He had kept doing it since, and Morgana had not found a way to show him her chambers were off limits to him.

The last time he had come to see her was yesterday around noon.  Upon thanking her for her counsel he had kissed her forehead, which he had always done, often, but then he had lingered over her, and had stared at her lips, Morgana began to pull away, but he held her tight. He kissed her lips, chastely, waiting a moment, before taking her lower lip between his, then she felt his tongue.

Morgana exerted all her force to push him off, “No!”

 He released her, his expression was guilty.  He left before anything else happened.

Morgana stayed in her chambers the rest of the day, with only Gwen for comfort.  Gwen hadn’t seen anything, Uther was careful to ask her to perform some task to send her from the room.  Would it matter if she had?  Gwen’s word or thoughts on the matter were nothing to Uther.  _No_ , Morgana resolved that it did matter. If Gwen saw, at least Morgana would have someone whom would understand that she could confide in.  Maybe she should tell Gwen.

Gwen ran her a bath. Morgana wanted nothing more than for Gwen to hold her in her arms in the water.  She wondered what it would be like to kiss Gwen’s lips, to gently caress the other woman’s mouth with her tongue, to run a hand along Gwen’s cheek, or even her bodice…  Gwen would never force her or rip her dress, she’d appreciate the effort that goes into mending a gown.  Morgana bet Gwen would be gentle and loving.  She tried to imagine herself on top of Gwen, both naked, but she couldn’t quite picture it.  What exactly did two women do?  Such thoughts weren’t permitted.  Morgana washed her body imagining it was Gwen touching her skin. That was the first time those feelings Morgana had experienced in her dreams came to her consciously of her own mind’s desire.  It was Gwen that stirred those rumblings of excitement inside Morgana, not Uther.  Morgana had fantasies of romance, and intimacy and long conversations about important issues, about expressions of love connected to genuine trust and feeling.

Morgana’s favorite fantasy was when she would encourage Gwen to stop working so hard, to sit on her bed.  To try on one of Morgana’s silk dresses.  Morgana would delight in touching Gwen as she helped her disrobe, and lacing her into one of Morgana’s corsets, seeing how the boning pushed Gwen’s ample breasts together until they spilled like rolling hills over the bodice.  Morgana would lick her lips.  Gwen would smile, Morgana would tell Gwen she was very beautiful.  Gwen would blush, and avert her eyes, Morgana would insist that she meant it, and reveal her feelings with a kiss on Gwen’s soft lips.  A peck would turn into their mouths joining in mutual lust.  The dress and corset would come off soon after and they would roll around on Morgana’s bed, naked, enjoying one another.  That thought alone got Morgana through many tough days.

She pulled out the Mage Stone, Gwen was still about, but Morgana didn’t care.  Morgana got into bed clutching the stone, she felt the need for protection very strongly tonight.  She even left a candle burning, if Uther planned on paying a night visit to her chambers, she wanted to see him coming.  She resolved to stay awake as long as she could…

It was as if Uther was right in front of her, she could feel his warmth, his sweat, the smell of him, the feel of him as he moved inside her.  The same room, the bed, the candles, their bodies intertwined in the same position, the smell and feel of the experience was the same.  For the first time something else that was strange about this interaction hit Morgana, _Uther appeared younger_.  In this vision his hair was a medium brown and less receded, his face less worn, less wrinkled and perhaps even more kind? 

Morgana heard herself speak, though it wasn’t quite her voice, it was lower, more confident than her own voice, “We must end this.”

“No,” Uther replied, not missing a beat in his rhythmic gyrations, “I can’t give you up, I won’t.”

Morgana felt her mouth open involuntarily, “We’re both married.”

Uther’s voice very clearly responded, “Vivienne…”

Morgana’s eyes snapped open.  _No!  She wouldn’t have!_

Morgana would never know if it was the shock of her discovery or the flaring emotion inside her, but she felt a flash go through her, and then out of her.  Suddenly a vase of flowers was exploded.  Then one of her windows broke in a sea of flying glass and before Morgana could blink her drapes were on fire.  Rising panic spread.  She was scared of the fire, but more so of how to explain it.

It was mere moments before Uther and Arthur were in her room.  Morgana was terrified, she could hardly speak or hear.

Gwen said something about blowing out a candle.  Arthur said something about lightening striking the window.  None of it sounded the least bit convincing, Morgana felt like that repeated dream of being executed, waiting for Uther to point a finger at her and call her a sorcerer.  But it didn’t happen.  They left, but four guards remained at her door.

 

* * *

 

 

Morgana needed answers about what was happening to her. But Gaius kept on dismissing her fears as nothing, she suspected he was withholding information though.  If he was doing that, then it really was serious, which only made the knives twisting in her gut worse.  Gaius might as well have called her a silly, over emotional, little girl.

Merlin came in the next day he seemed like he wanted to tell her something, but he didn’t say in the end.  Morgana wasn’t feeling reassured by anything this time.  Merlin came back the next evening and told her to find the druids.  They could tell her if she had magic and help her.  That evening Merlin even helped her escape the castle and told her exactly where to go.

_How did Merlin know how to find the druids, when their location was highly secret because of Uther’s vendetta against magic?_  

She’d have to ask Merlin if she ever saw him again.  She decided not to take anything with her, except her mother’s necklace and the stone, she really wasn’t sure if they would accept her or laugh in her face.  She knew not what she needed.  The idea of living the life of a fugitive in the woods scared her, but it also gave her hope, maybe she would find others just like her.

* * *

 

Morgana’s journey was long and scary, she walked all the next day and into the evening.  It was a bright full moon.  Before she knew it, large scorpion looking creatures were surrounding her.  A sharpened tail bit into her leg and then she was falling, she thought she could see a man coming to help her…

 

* * *

 

 

Morgana woke to a man leaning over her.  He was dabbing something on her forehead.

She felt afraid.

He tried to show her she was safe, “My name is Aglain.”

He called her Morgana, which made her more suspicious, until the druid boy she had helped escape Camelot months ago made himself known.

“Mordred was able to sense your distress when the circuit attacked,” Aglain informed her.

_Hello Morgana._

Morgana didn’t know how a person could do that without speaking, “Did you hear that?” She questioned the kind man with her, Aglain.

He seemed very wise and calm, “Sometimes we don’t need words to speak to one another.”

Mordred was wide eyed and sat next to her, “Now I can take care of you, the way you did me,” He smiled momentarily.

Aglain left them to become reacquainted.

 “I’m so glad you are safe,” Morgana couldn’t believe how overwhelmed she was to see the young druid boy again, “I… I should have done more…” Morgana almost cried, as she hugged the child never far from her heart, “Are you happy here?”

Mordred smiled a sad smile, “Yes, Morgana,” He cuddled her back, pulling her in closer, “You will be too.”

“You think I belong here?” It seemed a strange question to ask an eight-year old, but Mordred was clearly no ordinary youth.

“Oh yes, definitely, we can teach you how to use your gifts.” His big bright blue eyes lit up.

Morgana was stunned momentarily, “You know I have magic?”

He nodded slowly, then without words she heard his voice in her mind, _I knew you were like me the first time we met._

Morgana knew it would take some getting used to, “Can you hear my thoughts, too?”

“Sometimes,” The boy admitted.

Morgana had an oddly sinking feeling when she comprehended, he might know all sorts of private things about her given time.

_I won’t tell anyone_ , Mordred projected into her mind.

“What?” Morgana let her alarm be evident in her voice.

_About what the king did to you._

Morgana’s stomach heaved involuntarily.

_Morgana, I can help you._

Morgana stared back at Mordred, wide eyed and full of worry. Somewhere in the back of her mind she was concerned that lots of people, without Mordred’s gifts, were going to be able to sense a whole lot about what had happened to her, she pushed it aside.

“I’m never going back,” Morgana suddenly acknowledged as she spoke her words of defiance, “That’s all behind me now.”

Mordred smiled briefly, and held his hand out to her, which she took. 

_We can look out for each other… like family._

Morgana smiled genuinely, “I’d really like that.”

They embraced again, longer, and more intimately than the first time.

_I can teach you how to use the stone._

Morgana was stunned she pulled back to read Mordred’s expression, “How do you know about…” before cutting herself off, Mordred seemed like he knew a great deal, he probably sensed and heard the stone the same way she did.

_The Mage Stone can change the very essence of one thing to another,_ Mordred informed her.

“Alchemy” Morgana finished, before remembering the effect the stone was having on her,  
“Could the stone help you see the future.”

_That is not its power, you can see what is and what will be because that is your gift,_ Mordred stared back at her, his lips not moving before adding, _the stone is only making you clearer._

“I can see the future,” Morgana clarified out loud, what she guessed she had known for a while now.  Sofia’s threat to Arthur, the bite of the Questing Beast.

_Yes, Morgana,_ Mordred stared at her intensely. _You have a rare talent indeed_.

Morgana started to assemble the pieces of information in her mind, “Could the stone allow me to read another’s thoughts? See their dreams and memories?”

_The Mage Stone has many powers, it can make you appear to be the essence of another._

“What?” Morgana had never considered this possibility, “How so?”

_You can pretend to be someone else, so you can hide, or deceive… so you can survive,_ He explained silently.

Morgana was flabbergasted, “I’m a novice, Mordred, I don’t know how to do any spells, I can’t even control what I currently have.”

“It’s not as hard as you think, follow this,” The blue-eyed boy handed her a piece of parchment with a detailed description of what to do. _The stone will help you. It’s called a glamour._

Morgana started reading, “I’ll be able to conjure a particular person?”

_Yes, Morgana, use it to help yourself. Help all of us._

Morgana began to read the words on the scroll, trying to let the sudden change in the conversation and the enormity of the power she might have sink in.

Morgana was still finding it hard to follow Mordred’s thinking, “Who do you want me to conjure?”

_When the time comes, you’ll know what you must do._

“What if the beholder touches me, will they know it’s fake?”

His big blue eyes lit up, _He might. What we see is powerful, our eyes can fool the other senses into feeling what they expect to feel._

Morgana suddenly felt her stomach dropping out, “Why am I going to need a… glamour?” The unfamiliar word caught on her tongue. “Aren’t I going to be here with all of you?”

Mordred remained still and silent, a gloomy expression glimpsed his features.

Morgana continued to make sense of it all, but her alarm was building, “Do you all do it? To help you hide from Uther’s men?”

Silence from the boy.

It was late afternoon, and Morgana was now aware of her hunger.  Aglain came back and asked them both to the campfire to share in druid’s collective food.

The food was simple and tasted bad, but she refused to insult these kind people.  Morgana knew much would have to change for her now.  The druids seemed weary of her, no doubt they assumed she held Uther’s views once they were told who she was. 

After supper Mordred came back to her tent with her.  She was relieved to have him.  He snuggled up next to her on the ground. 

“Do you want me to tell you a story?” She asked, feeling maternal.

_No,_ He told her, _I can tell you a story, about a king who loved beautiful crystals._

Morgana definitely didn’t know that one, “What happened?”

“He died,” Mordred said with no emotion.

“When you tell a story, you are supposed to make me care about the hero,” Morgana explained to him, “I need to care about their dilemma or journey, don’t just tell me the ending.”

_It’s not the ending, it’s the beginning. And he’s not the hero._

“Who is then?”

_The beautiful crystal,_ Mordred didn’t miss a beat, as if expecting her question, “The new king loves crystals as well.”

“A crystal is a thing, not a person,” Morgana reaffirmed, “It doesn’t have feelings or motives, so it can’t be the hero of the story.”

Mordred smiled, but she was sure he didn’t agree with her.

He lay pressed up against her, and she heard him fall asleep quickly.

 

* * *

 

 

Morgana slept better than she could remember.  It was early afternoon before she woke.  Aglain gave her a proper tour of the camp. 

There were maybe 30 druids in all.  Mostly men, some women and a few children.  Two boys were playing some kind of game that involved catching and releasing frogs.  They were enthralled by it.  Others were preparing food, some were reading, others mediating or preying, Morgana didn’t know their customs.  They had no weapons, no fighters and no organized defenses that she could see.  _How do they survive in these woods?_

And finally, Aglain and Morgana sat alone, and she was able to ask the questions that plagued her.  About her abilities, the fires.

Aglain said it was magic, which Morgana felt oddly satisfied that she was no longer twisting in the wind, worrying about what could be or might be.  She had an honest answer.  He seemed so wise, where she felt bitter and angry, he was tranquil.  Aglain continued to reassert that she was safe here.  That Uther was wrong, and she should pity his fear and ignorance.  It was the first time anyone had ever so brazenly stated that magic was a gift, that Uther decreeing something law didn’t make it right.  She felt that way herself, now she didn’t feel crazy.

_Teach me, how to be like you, to let go of the fear and the hatred._

It was as if there was a whole other world that existed that Morgana had only just stumbled upon. 

Morgana lay down in her tent thinking about all these ideas.

Then Merlin appeared seemingly out of thin air, telling her she had to go back, Uther was about to execute dozens of people because he thought the druids had abducted her.  But she couldn’t go back.  Merlin wanted to pretend like nothing happened.  Live in Camelot, knowing what she knew now, and just pretend she didn’t have magic, under Uther’s nose.

She refused.  But Merlin kept insisting.

Aglain came back and informed them both that Arthur’s men were upon them.

Mordred came back into the tent, full of alarm, _Morgana, I am sorry, but I think our time together is not as we had hoped, our paths need to separate for a time._

Morgana didn’t have a chance to decipher Mordred’s meaning.  People were running all over the camp trying to escape.  Aglain took her arm and helped her to run, but her leg pained her.  Mordred followed.

Morgana should have left a note saying she had gone of her own free will, not to try and find her. _Stupid!_

Dogs were barking, the sound of swords clanging was behind her.  Men yelling.  Screams.

They reached a narrow pass between two large moss-covered rocks.  Merlin said he would create a diversion.  It seemed too risky, but he seemed determined to help.  She thanked him, swearing to repay his sacrifice one day. 

It was suddenly misty everywhere they went.  Morgana kept going, until her legs collapsed under her.  She was still feverish from the bite; her brow was sweaty, and she felt light headed. She begged Aglain to leave her.  He refused.

 

* * *

 

 

Morgana woke, she was on the ground, being stood over by two of Arthur’s knights.  She was still at the druid camp.  Morgana saw the carnage left in the wake of Arthur’s men, feeling completely helpless.  She saw Aglain’s body on the large pile, a crossbow bolt through his back.  _Why would they kill them?_

_More good people, dead for the crime of trying to help me._

_And what of Mordred?_

Her only reassurance was that Mordred’s body was not found once Arthur and his men had completed their slaughter, and they were lumping all the bodies together.  She saw the bodies of the two other children, no more than twelve, who had been playing with frogs.  They were not so lucky.

_The druids are a peaceful people.  But that doesn’t matter to Uther._

“Morgana, thank heavens you are safe,” Arthur had picked her up off the ground, “Father will be so pleased.”

She hated Arthur then too, how could he carry out such instructions blindly?  He lifted her onto his stallion, side saddle as if she really was some delicate princess, he then climbed on behind her and began trotting slowly. He kept a protective arm around her waist as if worried she would fall off if not for him.

They rode quietly for a long time.

“I wasn’t kidnapped,” Morgana told him, as they rode on Arthur’s stallion back to Camelot.

Arthur’s tone suggested he didn’t believe her, “Then how did we find you there.”

“I went myself,” Morgana snapped back at him.

“Why?” Arthur’s expression indicated no one could have any sane reason for doing so.

“Because…”  The words stuck in her throat, _I have magic and I don’t want to live in Camelot in constant fear for my life._

Arthur dismissed her silence in that cocky tone of his, “You don’t need to make excuses for them.  They can’t hurt you now.”

Morgana stifled the instinct to scream and hit him. Arthur was too close to Uther on too much. Would he really protect her if he knew her secret?  Maybe she could use a glamour to find out?

Mordred must have known what was coming.  He was protecting her, giving Morgana what she would need to survive.  Who knows where the boy would go now that all those who were protecting him were dead _.  Mordred is all alone._

More tears ran down her face, Arthur was pressed against her back, and wouldn’t understand.

It seemed a very long and daunting ride, as they neared the castle at Camelot, Morgana felt herself becoming increasingly tense.

Uther lifted her down from the horse and embraced her.  Morgana was scared and clung to him, but over his shoulder where he couldn’t see her expression, she felt sick with worry, with fear at being trapped here forever never knowing when she would be discovered, which day would be her last, when she would be cast down and put to death.  All while Uther thought he loved her.  But he didn’t love her.  He didn’t know what she was.  Uther’s gloved hand gently traced the outline of her cheek, he was giddy with relief that his most beautiful possession had been returned to him. She held his gaze momentarily, trying to return his feelings, though she was performing for him.  He pulled her into another tight embrace.

“It was the druids who had her,” Arthur informed the king, as if he hadn’t heard her confession a short time ago.

There was no escape. She should know by now.  Her attempts at ridding herself of Uther’s tyranny would only lead to more death for those brave and kind enough to help her.  She was a curse.

_No, this is on Uther._

 

* * *

 

 

That night Morgana couldn’t sleep.  She was still processing all that had happened, including the realization that had started this terrible ordeal.  It finally made sense.  She wasn’t seeing a warning of an impending trip, in which Uther was wishing to force himself on her.  Her visions were of Uther’s memories of an affair with her mother, possibly years ago, though Morgana was seeing it as if through Vivienne’s eyes.

It made her feel sick, and angry.  Why would they do that to her father?  Maybe Uther had made her mother do it?  Morgana kind of doubted that, since she seemed to feel the memories as her mother had.

Morgana felt ashamed she hadn’t identified her own mother’s voice, her mother’s hair, which she now recalled was long and Morgana’s color, but with only a slight wave to it. Her nails were longer than Morgana’s too, she should have known sooner.  Her mother had piercing blue eyes, but she had no way of noticing Vivienne’s eyes the way the memories were coming to her.

Had that day on the hill at her father’s cairn led to Uther to remembering his affair with her mother? Was that why he looked ashamed afterward?  Was his interest in Morgana because she was of similar appearance to Vivienne? 

_This is too much._


	6. Lancelot and Guinevere (2x04)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**A/N:** Scenes added between 2x03and 2x04 and threaded throughout 2x04._

 

Life had gotten much worse since Morgana’s 'abduction'.  Uther had become more smothering in his need to protect her.  Morgana wasn’t allowed outside the castle walls.  She couldn’t go for a ride, or even a walk.  Two guards were on her door every night and accompanied her everywhere she went in the castle. It was like being in the stockade in the market square, everyone can see you are imprisoned but no one does anything to help you.

The night Arthur returned her from the Druid camp Uther came to Morgana's chambers. The king was not deemed a threat to her safety so the guards on her door let him through. Afterwards Morgana had gone to see Gaius and requested moon tea.  He gave it to her and asked no questions.

Morgana was trying to think of a way of having Arthur discover Uther in her bed.  But how?  If Arthur saw with his own eyes, at the very least, his opinion of his father as a most righteous and good king would be tarnished.  Likely, Arthur would be horrified.  And then what?

Uther came back to her chambers a few nights after her supposed abduction.  Morgana was in her nightgown sitting up in bed, a single candle still lit, brushing her hair out.  Uther barged into her chambers, a bit drunk.  He sat on her bed.

Morgana stopped what she was doing, wondering what to do.

“I missed you,” He said honestly, his hand went to her leg that was covered by bed linen.

He leaned in to kiss her, but she turned her head at the last moment.

Uther apologized for his weakness, before blaming her.

He said, “You have bewitched me with some sorcery, My Love,” Uther rested his head in her lap.  “I cannot live without you.”

Morgana tried to push him away from her, “I have no desire for your soul… or your body.”

It was as if what she had just said had no meaning, mere incomprehensible words, or not even words, gibberish to be ignored.

“I must have you,” He said again, pulling her into him, as she tried to push him away.

“Like you had my mother!” It was out of her mouth before Morgana could stop herself.

Uther instantly pulled back from her as though she had struck him.

“What?” He fumbled, and stammered, “How, how… how could you…”

Morgana’s anger was upon her. “I know you had an affair with her, don’t bother denying it!” She yelled.

“I… I… I am the _King_!” Uther matched her rage.

His anger was frightening to behold. He began madly pacing her room in front of her bed.

“You will treat me with respect, and… and… not accuse me of such _vile_ …” The king’s face was red, his eyes bright white, his jaw clenched tight, and a vein in his forehead seemed bigger, “That’s _LIES_!”

He pointed a gloved finger at her, “Who dared say such things of their king?” He only paused momentarily, as if not actually expecting an answer, “I’ll have their name... now!”

Morgana shrunk away from him.

“You are confined to your chambers until you give me their name!!!”  “I’ll not have such… _lies_ said of me, is that clear!” Uther screamed, “I am your _KING_!”

He stormed out of her chambers.

And so, it went. 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Nearly a moon and a half had turned since Morgana had seen Mordred and the druids had tried to help her.  At first, she kept trying to find Mordred in her mind.  She’d clutch the stone, and ask him to talk to her, in her head, hoping he could hear her thoughts over long distances.

Now, over a whole moon turn of captivity, Morgana had been trying to bury her feelings, and not endlessly speculate where Mordred was, or if he was alive, he seemed to believe that they would meet up again someday.  She had to trust that he was right. 

Trying to push Mordred from her constant thoughts was difficult.  She tried to focus on studying the parchment Mordred had given her on how to produce a glamour.  There were many more difficulties that she was only beginning to comprehend, of course where to practice, secrecy was paramount.  But also, how to know if the glamour was even working?  Mordred said she would appear no different in mirrors, but she had no other way of knowing if it had worked, she couldn’t show anyone.

She was so bored, that watching Arthur and his knights train had become the highlight of her day. The only other good thing that had come of her sudden imprisonment was that Uther had not paid her any night visits.  He was clearly too scared of further confrontation over his affair with her mother. But even that reprieve was beginning to be of little comfort.

Arthur had begun to call on her most evenings.  He hadn’t questioned why Uther was disciplining her this time, he just accepted it.  To be fair, she hadn’t been forthcoming to name the reason either. 

The full moon had come and gone, and now the moon was just a thin crescent.  Morgana sat looking at the stars out her window.  Arthur entered quietly and came to sit beside her.  Morgana had realized that Arthur would need to be her salvation. 

Morgana’s desperation was evident, “Arthur, I cannot go on like this.”

Arthur didn’t seem phased, “It’s only temporary, either beg for forgiveness, or swear you won’t do… _whatever_ you did,” Arthur took a chunk of meat off her dinner plate and started chewing.

Morgana pulled her face into a forced smile, watching him. _You fool._

Once he was almost finished Arthur continued, “And that will be the end of it.  Show some humility… That’s all he wants.”

Morgana knew he was wrong, “It’s not that simple this time, Arthur.  I cannot give him the answer he wants.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Arthur again seemed to think the fight was trivial.

Morgana knew she needed to convey the severity of the situation to him, but how?

She clutched his hand in both of hers, looking up at him, wide eyed, feeling tears coming upon her, “I can’t. _Trust_ me,” She let her despair seep into her voice.

“Between you and father…” Arthur sharply exhaled his annoyance, “You… You are the most _stubborn_ people I’ve ever met!” Arthur’s stern expression softened then, “This stand-off could last another twenty years.  Knowing you two!”

“Will you help me?” Morgana pleaded, sure to show him that she really believed her life hung in the balance.

“You’re so dramatic!” Arthur rolled his eyes, “Fine! I’ll talk to him. What exactly am I to promise him on your behalf?”

“That I am in need of solace, and guidance, that I must be allowed to visit my father’s grave, for a chance to… reflect… on my… choices.”

Arthur no doubt thought her problems minuscule and was unlikely to understand her desire to visit Gorlois’ cairn.  It was also the request that Uther was least likely to grant, since last time she was there, Uther believed they had randomly encountered Tauren’s men.  But if Arthur could talk him into it…

“What choices are you reflecting upon?” Arthur asked earnestly before shaking his head, “I’m not even sure I even _want_ to be in the middle of this!” As if just talking to her was so much effort and inconvenience for him.

“Arthur, please, I’m begging you,” She still held his hand in hers, she brought it up to her own cheek, “I can’t stay in here another day, the walls are pressing in on me. This is my prison.”

Arthur’s hand retreated from her, the intimacy probably spooked him.  He looked at her disapprovingly, “Hardly, you have a maid, and all your meals brought to you, and access to all your fine things, father gives you more exquisite gifts than he has ever given me.”

Morgana almost choked on the understanding that Arthur was actually jealous of how Uther treated her.  _I’d trade with you in an instant,_ she thought.

“You can have them,” Morgana went to her dresser, and began to throw the items at him, “The necklaces, bracelets, parasols, gloves, dresses…”

Arthur was almost laughing as he caught and dropped all the items on her bed.

Morgana convey her frustration, “Take it all, I want none of it!”

“What do you expect me to do with all that _girly_ stuff?” Arthur said as if she really were crazy, then he clarified, “I just mean the king sees to your _every_ comfort”

_No, he doesn’t.  I am permanently uncomfortable.  You just don’t see it, you arrogant jack ass!_

Morgana took a moment to force the anger she felt back down.  Morgana came back to sit very close to Arthur on the bed, so he could feel the heat coming off her body.  Morgana grabbed onto his arm, he liked it when she was the weak, but pretty maiden, who needed him to be the chivalrous knight and save her, “Arthur, this is important.”

She battered her lashes, bit her lip and looked at the floor before bringing most earnest eye contact back up at him, staring deep into his blue eyes, “You must help me. I will endeavor to repay your kindness in any way I can,” Her voice came out a little breathier and more seductive than she really meant it too.

Arthur’s expression changed, maybe to surprise?

“Okay, just stop!” He retreated physically, bothered by the affect she was having on him.  “I’ll help you.”  He was now embarrassed, “How can I convince father to let you go to the place you were assaulted only a few months ago?”

“I’ll take as many guards as he wants,” Morgana offered.

Arthur looked as though he was considering her suggestion, “I’ll pick them myself, and you’ll have as many of our best knights,” He nodded, agreeing that her plan was reasonable, “I would go myself, but I will be with Father getting an oath of fealty tomorrow from the new Duke of Gorral.”

“That’s fine Arthur.”

He nodded and turned to leave.

“Arthur,” She called after him, with that exaggerated R sound that marked her out as someone not from Camelot.

He turned, waited.

“Thank you.” She put her hand over her heart to emphasize her genuine feeling.

 

* * *

 

 

Arthur returned later that evening to let Morgana know that Uther had in the end agreed to her request.  But the number of guards and knights had doubled from what Arthur and Morgana believed was necessary.  She didn’t care.  She would be leaving her chambers and the castle.  She embraced Arthur warmly, much more heartfelt than she had allowed herself to feel for him in a long time.

“There is a price with this… _mercy_ , as father called it.” Arthur mentioned as he was about to leave.

Morgana felt her heart stop in her chest.

“The king had this to say…” Arthur paused to remember the agreement word for word, “If you promise never to repeat your… accusation, he will accept silence on the source of your… claims,” Arthur struggled, because he still didn’t know the content of the fight, Arthur had had to memorize the words spoken exactly, “Father will accept an oath of silence and he will forget this… event… ever happened, and he will restore your previous privileges such as leaving the castle, provided you accept reasonable protection, to be determined by him.”

Morgana exhaled the breath she had been holding.

“Very well,” She committed quickly.  Uther was never going to admit to anything anyway. She knew that.

Before Arthur left, he turned to her, “And Morgana,”

“Yes?”

“There is one additional requirement before this bargain is struck,” Arthur was being serious now.

Morgana waited nervously, “I’m listening,”

“It’s not about listening, it’s about _talking_ ,” Arthur looked upset, just momentarily, he came back slowly, and sat on top of her bed next to her, “Talking, specifically to me.”

“Oh,” Morgana was taken aback.

“What’s going on between you and father?” His voice was concerned, not demanding, “I’ve been noticing tension for months and I don’t understand.  He’s making every effort with you to show you how much he cares, and you treat him as if he has the pox.  He’s your king, and your guardian, Morgana, and you are acting like…” Arthur let himself trail off.

Morgana began to cry then, she couldn’t keep it in.  Arthur saw only that she was being an unreasonable brat but none of what Uther had done to bring on her response.  It wasn’t fair.

Whatever had been stemming her feelings about hiding what had been happening to her, all the fear, and isolation came spewing out in great waves of sobbing.

Arthur was uncomfortable with such open displays of emotion, but he was chivalrous to a fault, so he stayed and tried to console her.

He placed a strong arm around her shoulders in an attempt to make her feel safe and comforted.

“I want to understand,” Arthur said sincerely. 

 “He… he…” She cried harder then.

Arthur believed Uther an honorable man, despite the king’s vendetta against magic.  She knew Arthur wouldn’t believe her.  She would need to prove it.

“Arthur,” Morgana turned to him, her eyes wet, swollen and sore from crying, “I need you to do something for me, this is very important.”

Arthur seemed very worried for her, he leaned in. “Name it.”

“I need you to stay here tonight, sleep here, next to the bed.”

“Morgana! I cannot sleep in your chambers; the guards saw me enter if I were not to leave… well the castle gossip alone!” Arthur began to reject her idea, “Father would…”

“I need your help,” She was plucking at his heart strings now, “There’s no one else I can trust.”

“What exactly is the problem?” Arthur had definitely had his interest piqued.

Morgana patted the bed next to her, “Stay with me, I need you.”

The guards might tell Uther if Arthur wasn’t seen to leave her chambers, he was right.  “You should go and return before midnight, come to my window, I’ll lower you down a rope.”

“You have a rope?” He sounded incredulous.

“You can bring me one, then pretend you are retiring to your chambers for the night.”

Arthur shook his head, “Morgana, why do I feel I am about to regret listening to you?”

Morgana just smiled at him, slightly deviously.

“Fine!” Arthur said crossing his arms, “But, you shall have to vouch for my… chaste behavior if it comes down to that.”

Morgana smiled sadly, _it’s not your behavior that’s in question_ , “I will,” She said in truth.

 

* * *

 

 

Morgana anticipated that Uther would visit her chambers that evening.  Uther would feel that the matter was settled and that he had been more than reasonable, and that Morgana should feel gratitude to him for ending her internment.  Uther’s willingness to live in ignorance of her feelings angered her.

Arthur did as she bid him, and Morgana was so very relieved when Arthur came up the rope into her room again without being seen.  He had made a bit of noise when he fell into the room though.  He seemed to forever be wearing mail.

She felt nervous having him there.  Morgana was ready for bed and under her blankets.  Gwen had left a couple of hours ago.  Morgana asked Arthur to sit between the window and the bed, so he couldn’t be seen by anyone entering her room.  He obliged but seemed to think this whole thing very strange.

They began to talk, in hushed voices.  They hadn’t spoken like this in so long.  Arthur had so many responsibilities and she had virtually none.  So, he was perpetually too busy for her.  Morgana was happy for the company.  The ordeal of being locked up was almost over.

Arthur finally said breaking a short silence in a mock stern tone, “What did you say?”

Morgana paused, divulging Uther’s affair with her mother didn’t just have implications for her, it also tarnished Uther in Arthur’s standing, but he wasn’t likely to believe her.  She resolved to tell him after tonight, when it would be harder to deny.

“I’ll tell you later, it’s all too raw right now.” Morgana said earnestly.

“I’ll hold you to that,” He paused a few moments before switching to his small talk voice, “So, what’s new with you?”

“Nothing, how could it be?” Morgana was a little snappier than she intended. “Watching you train has been the highlight of my day for so long now.”

Arthur became playful, “You’ve been watching me getting sweaty, beating other men, seeing my rippling muscles…”

“Yes, I don’t know how I can control myself…” Morgana rolled her eyes, and exaggerated her voice, “Now that I have you all to myself in my chambers no less, in the dead of night while the castle sleeps…”

Arthur and Morgana both chuckled together.

After they had stopped and there had been a short silence, Arthur managed to uncomfortably confess, “I… _care_ for Gwen.”

Morgana felt a little surprise initially, then sad.  She wanted Gwen but didn’t think she stood much of a chance if Arthur was her competition.

“Did you hear me?” Arthur said, since she had been thinking and forgotten to respond.

Morgana overcompensated for her distraction by speaking too quickly, “Gwen has a kind heart, and is very beautiful.  You have better taste in women than I give you credit for.”

_The same taste as me!_

Arthur was dismayed, “Nothing can come of it.”

“Why not?” Morgana probed.

“Um, because I’m the prince, and she’s a servant,” His tone suggested she was stupid for even asking.

“Why does it have to be like that,” Morgana mused.

She glanced out at the night sky, one of the only things that got her through the last month.  Thinking about stars, where they come from, how old are they?  Why are some brighter than others?  She had had lots of time to think.

“Because father would never allow it,” Arthur exhaled impatiently, annoyed.

But Morgana countered, “When you rule, it will be as you say.” She paused to let the idea sink in, “You don’t have to do it _his_ way.”

Morgana knew her advice was right, even if she was influencing Arthur to put a plan in motion that might rob her of her heart’s desire.

Arthur reached out and touched her shoulder.  It was a beautiful, comforting gesture, a thank you.

“When did you get so wise?” He smiled.

“You’re right, I should rule,” Morgana said coyly, before patting his shoulder back, “You keep training hard, so you can be my most trusted knight!”

More comfortable smiles were exchanged between them.  Arthur spent some time complaining about Merlin.  Morgana tended not to weigh in on the matter, but she was generally horrified by how unappreciative and rude Arthur was to Merlin.  She would never speak to Gwen like that.

Morgana wasn’t sure when they both fell asleep, but it must have happened.  She woke to see the sun coming out through her window.  Arthur was now stretched out on the floor.  She gave him pillows and two blankets last night, but even still he did not look comfortable.

Uther didn’t come. She was relieved, but also disappointed. Morgana had been holding her secrets for so long, she wanted it over, for it to be out in the open.

What should she tell Arthur?  Nothing for now.  Another opportunity would present itself.

 

* * *

 

 

Arthur came to send her off for her pilgrimage to the cairn on the hill.  It was only an hour ride, but that was more sunlight than she had enjoyed in weeks.  Eight guards and six knights were with Morgana and Gwen.

They were not far from  Gorlois’ Cairn when bandits, lots of them, came from all sides.  Morgana tried to ride free and then she was running.  Guards and knights were dying all around her.

Morgana and Gwen were caught easy enough.

Morgana huddled with Gwen in the back of the tent, waiting for the bandits to come for them.  Morgana was sure they wanted her alive for a ransom.  She needed to use that somehow.  But Morgana was finding it hard to concentrate on what to do.  Morgana buried her face in Gwen’s chest, and held her close.  She felt Gwen’s hands clutching her arms, as the older woman did the same.  They were both trembling.  Morgana lost herself in the lavender smell of Gwen’s hair, the feel of her tight curls against her cheek.

“Morgana, we must get you out of here,” Gwen spoke with a quiet determination.

It saddened Morgana’s heart that Gwen seemed to think her own life was inconsequential in this situation.

Morgana corrected her defiantly, “We need to get _both_ of us out of here.”

“Any ideas?” Gwen had that pensive look on her face, which she often had when she was scared, but putting on a brave face for Morgana’s sake.

Morgana heard Arthur brag once of how bandits had used a beautiful woman bathing to distract his knights from their duties, to catch them with their breeches down, so to speak.  It gave her an idea.

“Gwen, I think I’ll request to bathe.”

“Bathe?” Gwen seemed appalled, “My Lady, you don’t mean to strip off your clothes in front of these…”

“It’s the perfect distraction,” Morgana said mischievously.

Gwen didn’t look the least convinced, maybe even more distressed, but she deferred to Morgana.

Morgana explained her plan to Gwen in hushed tones.

 

* * *

 

 

Morgana sometimes felt as if her hatred would be enough to incinerate Uther where he stood.  She couldn’t be the only person who hated the injustice that if Gwen had escaped and not her, Uther would be prepared to lose all his precious knights on her rescue.  But because Gwen had been born a blacksmith’s daughter, she could rot as far as Uther was concerned.  Either Hingus was bad and must be stopped based on his actions, or he wasn’t, the idea that some people mattered, and others did not would never be acceptable to Morgana.  She wanted to hit Uther, to hurt him.  How dare he think Gwen who was so kind and loyal, that her life was worth less than her own.  And Arthur, who admitted just last night that he ‘cared for Gwen’ just stood there and didn’t even raise a whimper. 

_COWARDS!_

_All of them._

 

* * *

 

 

Morgana could have kissed Arthur when he said he was going to rescue Gwen.  _I wish for once Arthur would show some conviction when dealing with Uther in public, but at least help was coming for Gwen._   The dysfunction and deceit that goes on between father and son in the Pendragon family would almost be comical, if she weren’t in the middle of it, and the stakes were not so high.

Morgana knew Uther would visit her chambers that night.  She needed to turn the situation to her advantage.  Yes, Arthur had set off to help Gwen, but it was only him and Merlin, and by all accounts Hingus had lots of men.  They might fail or need more help.  If Uther would send more of Camelot’s knights the chances of everyone coming back safe would be so much improved.

What to do? If she gave him what he wanted, her body, if she went willingly.  Would that persuade him to send more men?  The thought of it made her sick though.

She had the stone, could she conjure someone to tell him to do it?  Morgana was far from sure she could do the spell, let alone in front of Uther, she’d be in the dungeon being fitted for a stake before Uther could cry ‘sorcery’.  Unless, she made him think it was a dream, rather than a real conjuring?  But who would Uther listen too?  He would listen to Igraine, Arthur’s mother.  But Morgana had never seen her and wouldn’t know how to act the part.

_My mother?_   Since the memories she was getting, Morgana felt she probably could manage, just a very short conversation in his chambers at night, mimicking her mother’s way of speaking, her walk, the visions had helped Morgana remember that her mother loved lilies, and used to smell like them.

But how?  She would need to convince Uther he was dreaming or receiving a divine message from God via a spirit or angel.  It was risky though, he was likely to call witchcraft.  And then what? But Gwen was too important not to try though.

Additionally, she would have no way of really knowing if the glamour had worked until she got to Uther, and if it didn’t, he would just see Morgana.

Morgana thought about that dark blue silk dress her mother was wearing in that vision she saw, maybe she could modify her own gown that was the same color to look more similar.  Uther wasn’t likely to notice the finer details.

Morgana tried on her own to alter the dress, but eventually called Bertha from the laundry to help her.  They sewed beads onto the bodice, and Morgana had a scarf that she could wrap around her shoulders.  The sewing took far too long.  Morgana missed supper to practice the ritual.

The stone glowed, so she had put it on a chain around her neck in a brown leather pouch. But it was a noticeable bump in a figure cutting gown.  So, Morgana had fastened it around her ankle.  She had memorized the words to make and break the spell. She bathed in lily water that evening.

The final part of her plan was a drowsy Uther.  Morgana got a sleeping draft off Gaius, she figured if she gave Uther a half dose, he would be too foggy and believe he really was dreaming.  Uther kept a carafe of wine by his bed that he drank from late at night.  She slipped into his chambers before supper would have ended and added the sleeping draft to his wine.

Morgana waited until it was midnight.  She dressed and fastened the stone around her leg. She reflexively checked her mirror, but of course she looked no different.  She would have to wait until she was in Uther’s chambers to say the words. Finally, she fixed her mother’s necklace around her neck.

Morgana strode confidently down the hallway wearing her modified dark blue dress and smelling like lilies, purposefully, on a mission.  She kept her composure as she approached Uther’s door. The dress could pass at a glance for the one her mother had worn.

She whispered the magic words and heard the tingling sound of the stone.  She lit a candle and caught sight of herself in Uther’s nightstand looking glass. She appeared the same as she logically knew she would, but it was unsettling all the same.

“Uther,” She whispered, “My king.”

He began to stir after a few moments.  Then he blinked his eyes a few times and began to rub them with his hands. He looked at her, and then did a double take.

“Morgana?”

Maybe it had worked though, and Uther couldn’t believe he was seeing Vivienne.

Morgana didn’t want to touch anything material, she wanted to appear as an angel or spirit, so she kneeled by his bed, close to the candle so he could get a good look at her face in the yellow glow.

She held her breath and waited for his reaction.

“Morgana?” Uther was surprised, not angry, “Is everything alright?”

Morgana had to resist the urge to flee. _It hadn’t worked.  Why not!?_

Panic set in.  She had to speak. 

“I’m sorry to wake you, My Lord,” Morgana felt her heart beating in her chest.  She forgot what her plan was if the spell failed.  _What was I supposed to say again? “_ I had a bad nightmare.”

“Oh”, was all Uther managed in his groggy state.  He sat up and tried to wake himself up more.

“It was about Gwen… being tortured.” Morgana gasped back tears. 

Uther put an arm around her to soothe her.

Morgana managed to choke out words, “I’m so worried about what will happen to her, she’s my dearest friend.” The tears weren’t fake now, the stress of Gwen’s fate now rested on Morgana’s shoulders.

Morgana didn’t like her contingency plan, but now it was all she had.  She bit her lip, and mentally reprimanded herself to toughen up. 

 “I understand,” Uther attempted to console her, “I know you want me to do more.”

“Why don’t you?” Morgana pleaded, “ _I’m_ asking you for this.”

Uther thought for a moment before articulating his stance, “I know you care for her, but what you need to learn is that everyone has their place.  Maids are not worth the lives of knights.”

Morgana felt her jaw clench, _She’s not just my maid!_

Uther continued oblivious to her anger, “Dozens could be killed rescuing Gwen, and for what?  She tends to you, but so could many other maids in Camelot,” Uther tried to be consoling, but all his actions were patronizing and bound up in his sexual desire for her, he began to caress her cheek again. 

Morgana forced herself to accept his touch and not pull away, no matter how she felt.

Uther was still speaking, “Knights take their oaths to die for us seriously, and I have to weigh their lives against their mission, every time I send them out, they may not be coming back.”

“And what is the price of a friend?” Morgana questioned, “A most trusted and loyal friend, my oldest friend?”

Uther sighed, as if he knew he was wasting his time with her, he pulled his hand back from her cheek.  He saw her as an irrational and silly woman ruled by her emotions who couldn’t be made to see sense. Morgana wanted to hurt him then.  She knew it deep within.  She wanted him to pay.  She took a long slow breath, trying to calm down.  It would not help Gwen if she were to set his chambers on fire.

Morgana knew she had argued this wrong.  She should have emphasized how terrified she was about what Hingus did to _her_ , that Hingus had sought her out knowing that Uther’s ward was very dear to him.  Hingus was _really_ challenging Uther’s authority.

Morgana had no reservations of the importance of using whatever weapons she had.  She needed to do something drastic.  Gwen must be saved.

Morgana softened all at once.  She leaned closer.  She reached out to Uther and took his face in her hands and began to kiss him.  Morgana exaggerated her lust, her hunger for his mouth. 

Uther must have known what game she was playing.  Morgana wasn’t sure if he would be aroused or annoyed at her blatant sexual manipulation of him.

This time, it was Morgana who reached for his clothes, pulling off his shirt in one fluid motion leaving it pooled on the floor.  Her fingers grabbing hold of his chest hairs.  Uther was excited at her willingness and began to caress her through the dress that he hadn’t seemed to notice up until now.

“You smell like lilies,” Uther commented.

“Yes, do you like it?” She feigned ignorance of why that scent would interest him.

“I do.  Your…” He began to say before immediately ceasing mid-sentence.

Morgana yanked at his breeches until they could be pulled off his legs.  She got onto the bed, a knee either side of Uther who was now lying on his back propped up with a few pillows.  She brought her hand up to his inner thigh, she touched his sensitive skin, she moved slowly and gently towards his center, his sword was already at attention when she grasped it with her hand.

Uther was failing at her corset which laced in the back.  It was far too well made for him to rip open either.

Morgana thought back to the memory of her mother straddling him, how he liked it when she had taken control. Morgana bunched her dress right up and all her petticoat layers.  She took his hand and placed it between her legs, encouraging him to caress her sensitive folds, to warm her arousal.  Uther did not need further invitation.  She felt his fingers enter her.  She exaggerated her breathing and sounds of her pleasure at his touch, which seemed to thrill him. 

Uther couldn’t contain himself. “I need to be inside you,” He whispered from where his face was buried between her corseted breasts.

“As you will it, My King,” Morgana offered, stroking his manhood.

She positioned herself over him and lowered herself onto his sex.  It was much easier this time since her body was somewhat ready for him.  She again feigned her delight, complemented the size and feel of him against her flesh.  She then began to mimic the movements she had seen her mother do in the woods outside of her childhood home.  The gentle rocking.  She kept a hand on his shoulder to steady herself.

He gently thrust his hips up to meet her, matching her movements. 

Morgana wasn’t being forced.  This wasn’t a choice she liked, but it was a choice.  She wondered if this was even the worst choice she had had to make.  Probably not.  She had done things that had gotten people killed.  Who cared if she led Uther on?  He had all the power, her only power lay in Uther’s attraction to her. So why not use what she had?

 “Oh, my… you… feel… amazing,” Uther managed to say between breaths and pushes.

“Do you like that, My Lord?” Morgana stated deviously.

“Yes… oh yes… keep…. keep doing that.”

Morgana played dumb, “Like this, My Lord?”

“Yes, that, right there,” He gasped.

She felt him nearing completion.

Morgana halted all her motions suddenly.

Uther’s eyes opened, “Don’t stop.”

Morgana stayed still a few agonizing beats, before finally saying, “As you wish, My King.”

Morgana was pretending ignorance, when really, she was trying to tease him, his body, to admit he wanted her, that he was frustrated when she didn’t do what he wanted, that to cut off his pleasure before he had reached his peak was to deny him.

She built up her grinding again, with deeper but more fluid motions now, which seemed to drive him even more wild with passion.

“Morgana!” Uther exclaimed, his voice rasping.

She rode him over the edge of ecstasy.

She stayed on top of him, waiting to see what he wanted.

“Stay,” He half asked, half commanded.

“As you wish,” Morgana replied quietly.

He finally caught sight of the necklace she was wearing.

He reached out as if to touch it, then recoiled as if it were poison.

“Take that off,” He became angry.

“It’s just a necklace, it was my mother’s.”

“I know that,” Uther’s teeth were clenched. His voice turned cold, “I don’t ever want to see it again, is that understood.”

Morgana said nothing, it was no good for him to become angry, then her sacrifice was for nothing.

His hands reached for hers, pulling her down, next to him.  He rolled her onto her side, and she felt him press his body up against her back. He unclasped the necklace straight away and threw it on the floor in disgust. Then he seemed to settle down and placed a protective arm over her. This gesture would probably make a person feel safe, if the person doing the embracing wasn’t the source of their fear of course.  Morgana still had the stone in the pouch around her ankle.  He wasn’t likely to notice.

She felt pulling at her back before recognizing Uther was unlacing her corset.  She was thankful, it was freeing to have it off.  The dress ended on the floor, and she was kept warm by his body.

She heard him open and close his mouth a couple of times before finally saying her name.

Uther’s voice felt hot and hoarse on her ear, “How did you learn to do that?”

_Dangerous question_.  Uther was a jealous man.  If he thought she had been seeing other men, it could have dire consequences.

“I don’t know,” Morgana tried to sound honest, “I just thought you might like that.”

“Have you done this with anyone else?” He clarified his probing question.

She tried to be reassuring, and bite back the urge to say, _actually never voluntarily until tonight, if you call acting under duress to save a friend voluntary._ But she knew better, and replied, “Only you.”

Uther seemed to accept her words, and let the conversation drop. He gently ran a hand through her hair.

After a couple of minutes Morgana asked, “Will you help Gwen?”

“Morgana!” Uther was now annoyed.

She turned to face him, so their faces were nearly touching again.

Morgana was pleading now, “If not for Gwen, then for my sake, for I don’t know how I can go on without her.”

She showed him her genuine sadness.

Uther snorted, as if being distressed over the loss of one’s maid was simply contemptable to him, but he was no longer in any mood to debate her. 

He sought to end the argument, “Fine! I’ll send a dozen men in the morning, just to make you happy! And I’ll hear no more of this nonsense. She’s a maid, not a princess!”

_Morning could be too late_.  She needed them to set off now. Morgana’s anger at Uther flared again, she wanted him to feel as she felt.

She allowed condescension to seep into her tone, “You know Arthur has already gone to save Gwen himself.”

Uther’s eyes flew open now, “He didn’t!”

“He did.” Morgana mocked him, letting her delight at his concern play across her face, “Already left.  Hours ago.”

Uther was outraged, “How _dare_ he!”

Morgana felt a little guilty, she had promised Arthur she would cover for him with Uther.  But this way, Arthur would have more support.  It was insane to go with just Merlin; how could they hope to rescue Gwen against such odds?  She was doing him a favor.

Uther jumped off the bed now.

Morgana couldn’t help but mock him, “I assume the risk to your knights is worth the price now?” She knew she was arching her eyebrow in reproach.

Uther’s anger was uncontrollable, “How can you even ask that… are you _enjoying_ this!”

He stood over her, his presence exuding a kind of ferociousness that Morgana began to expect him to strike her.  He didn’t.

Uther yelled towards the door, “Guards!”

Four men materialized moments later.  If they thought anything of the naked King standing with his ward in his bed they immediately pretended not to notice.

“Your highness, how might we be of service?” One of the guards spoke.

“Get together… every knight and guard. They leave now!  They are to stop Hingus and bring my disobedient son back to me.”

Once the men had scurried off, Uther turned back to Morgana.

“You should have told me the second Arthur even thought about going!” Then Uther stopped and considered a moment, and his tone became calmer and more controlled, “But of course, you wanted Gwen saved, if you’d told me, I would have stopped him.”

He was still angry, but begrudgingly acknowledged that Morgana knew exactly what she was doing to him.  “Well played.” 

He took a long swallow of the wine on his dresser. He glanced back at Morgana who was propped up on her elbow watching him intently. Uther downed the rest of the wine in one long swallow. He blew out the only candle, symbolically ending all discussion. And got back into bed beside her.

The silence was momentarily interrupted, “You certainly know how to get your own way, My Dear.”  Uther didn’t really mean it as a compliment.

Morgana rolled back over and finally allowed herself to process everything.  She wanted to cry at what she had just done and desperately wanted to bathe.  But also, to smile and cry tears of relief, because help was coming for Gwen and she was not in a dungeon.  She wouldn’t rest easy until Gwen, Arthur and Merlin were back safe and sound.

Soon she heard Uther snoring.

Anxiety gripped her again. _Why didn’t the spell work?_ She was almost relieved, it was very risky to use magic in front of Uther, and who knows if Uther wouldn’t have tried to bed her anyway wearing her mother’s face.  It would be hard to explain why he could touch a spirit.

She would need to practice the spell in a low risk way until she knew what she was doing.  Hingus’ attack had forced Morgana’s hand.  She wasn’t ready.  She should have known and been better prepared.

 

* * *

 

 

Morgana emerged from behind Arthur and embraced Gwen.  She bathed in her relief, and her friend’s scent.  It was like seeing Gwen a new, her freckles, her lips, her pretty eyes with their kind expression, her tight brown curls.  Even her rough hands, so familiar and the source of so much previous comfort.

Morgana waited politely waited while a few more people told Gwen how happy they were to see her returned safe.

Gwen herself praised Arthur’s gallantry.

Morgana took Gwen by the hand and led her up to her chambers.

Once they were alone, Morgana invited her friend to sit on her bed, and when Gwen did, she embraced her warmly, closely, rubbing Gwen’s back with her hands.  There was something exciting about seeing Gwen dressed in one of Morgana’s fine silk dresses, it accentuated her beauty.

Morgana shook her head, conveying her worry, “It must have been horrible!”

“Yes, it was.” Gwen said in her quiet way, “But I wasn’t alone.  Brave… men helped me every step of the way.”

Gwen spoke of the ordeal, but Morgana sensed she was leaving something out.  It didn’t seem right to press her, given all that had happened.  Morgana decided to let it drop for now and bring it up again later.

“I am so happy, and relieved,” Morgana said again, allowing Gwen out of her grasp, but keeping their faces close.  “I’m not sure I could go on without you.”

_I cannot live without you.  I must have you._ Morgana recalled the words Uther had said to her not all that long ago and felt sick.  It wasn’t the same, she tried to convince herself.

Gwen smiled politely, embarrassed, “Morgana!”

“I’m serious Gwen, you mean more to me than I can say,” Morgana gazed longingly into Gwen’s beautiful brown eyes.

“Thank you.  I know you were the one who… convinced Arthur…” Gwen let herself trail off.

Morgana wasn’t listening to what that might mean she was preoccupied staring at Gwen’s lips.  Morgana leaned in slowly before she brushed her lips, ever delicately, against Gwen’s lips.

It was fleeting, a chaste kiss.

Gwen smiled, “My Lady…”

Morgana took Gwen’s expression as an invitation and now kissed her passionately, her lips parted covering Gwen’s mouth, she tasted her, her tongue, her lips, drawing her in closer.

Gwen pulled away, shocked.  There was revulsion in her eyes.

_Idiot!_ That was Gwen's polite but uncomfortable smile! Morgana internally chastised herself.  _She doesn’t want you!_

“My Lady!” Was all Gwen managed to say as she retreated to the door.  “I’ll go… get your clean clothes from the laundry, and… check… check on the evening meal.”

She couldn’t face Gwen, Morgana didn’t want to see whatever else might be revealed in Gwen’s expression now.  Morgana feared further disappointment.  Not now.

Gwen didn’t wait, she curtsied and left in a hurry.

The pain in her chest hurt so much, Morgana had no words.  She closed her door before throwing herself on her bed to cry. 

_I love you_ , thought Morgana as more tears fell onto her clean white sheets.

She had a sinking feeling that she had just irreversibly ruined Gwen’s opinion of her, that the older woman would forever be weary in her presence now.


	7. Beauty and the Beast Part 1 and 2 (2x05 and 2x06)

 

Morgana had never been so relieved.   Uther’s attentions rested on a woman who wasn’t her.  Lady Katrina was perfect as far as Morgana was concerned, she could only hope nothing slowed down the mutual affection Uther and his new lady had for one another.

Morgana felt she could breathe at last.  She stopped fretting every night about her nightmares, she had stopped keeping the Mage Stone with her for fear Uther might come to her bed uninvited, which had caused her nightmares to return with vengeance.  Now she was sleeping again.  Arthur seemed to accept Katrina too, which reassured Morgana that things just might work out.

 

* * *

 

 

Uther was under a spell!  Of course, he was!  It was far too much to ask that he simply forget her existence and find a woman whom could actually stand him.  Of course, there was no telling Uther that.  He was still under the spell, his bride ripped a door off its hinges in front of him, her stench, and tusks …. And he saw nothing at all.

Morgana derived a guilty pleasure knowing that Uther was taking a troll to his bed, that the whole castle knew and was laughing at him, but her satisfaction was met with a knowledge that the situation was temporary, soon Uther would snap out of it, and he would be angry, and embarrassed and would want to prove himself manly, and a proper ruler.  She would bare his wrath.


	8. The Witchfinder (2x07)

 

“Call the Witchfinder!” Uther’s voice boomed across the hall.

Morgana felt she was going to be sick with terror. 

_Breathe._

_I’m a witch. He’s a witchfinder._

_Breathe._

Morgana had never met him, but she had heard his reputation as very adept at his work.  Whom liked nothing more than to burn those accused of sorcery.

 

* * *

 

 

It wasn’t long before the man of fearsome repute rode up to the castle in the dead of night.  The carriage was a cage, with chains and restraints clanging against the metal bars.

Morgana was watching him intently, speaking quietly with Gwen about her concerns.

Aridian suddenly looked up at her, as if he sensed her watching him.  She physically recoiled from the window.

_Maybe he can tell who’s a witch just by looking at them._

_Breathe._

 

* * *

 

 

Morgana had nowhere to turn.  The druids who helped her last time were gone.  Mordred too perhaps?  But she wouldn’t allow herself to think that.  Gwen could barely make eye contact with Morgana since she had kissed her.   Gaius had known the truth and all he did was numb her with potions.  Arthur couldn’t wait to offer his services to a man with Aridian’s standing.   Merlin?  Maybe, but what could anyone do in this situation?

Aridian had ordered no one leave the castle without his leave and was checking everyone and everything that went in or out.  And Morgana watched it all from her window, feeling helpless. But those who should fear had no recourse, they must bare their burdens in silence.   She woke screaming last night because she had a dream she was sentenced to burn. They lit the pyre and the flames took her dress, and that’s when she began to scream.  

Morgana needed to hide the Mage Stone, her mother’s necklace and the parchment Mordred had given her in a much better spot than her chambers, which could be searched at any moment.  She was going to need to perfect her glamour for real now.  There was no alternative.

Morgana understood that she could check that the glamour had worked using Gwen.  Arthur, Uther and Aridian himself were the only three people in Camelot above suspicion. 

_Arthur it is._

It was not hard to find Arthur’s clothes and mail in his room, dirty and on the floor from yesterday’s training. It wasn’t pleasant, but at least no one would smell her.  The shirt and pants themselves were miles too big, but according to the parchment, the glamour tricked the eye.  What she was doing was incredibly risky.

The problem was, if she dressed as Arthur and it didn’t work, she’d just look, well… crazy.  Perhaps she could use her privacy screen? Check who Gwen thought it was, then dress appropriately.  Gwen would never believe Arthur would change his clothes in Morgana’s room though? Be dressed as Arthur, and only change if the glamour failed.  Arthur could be fetching a dress for Morgana?

Morgana was pretty sure she knew what she had gone wrong last time. The parchment had old symbols and so understanding and translating it had taken some doing.  Morgana had been prying information out of the court genealogist, Geoffrey of Monmouth, without him realizing why she was asking him all these questions.  She now believed she had pronounced two of the words incorrectly.  Morgana sometimes wondered how long a glamour could last?  Could she take another’s form and leave this all behind?  It was a comforting thought.

Arthur couldn’t be seen to be in two places at once.  If Morgana asked him to do something for her, that required him to stay in his chambers, then ask Gwen to do something that would keep her in the laundry or kitchen she would have enough time to take a quick stroll outside the castle walls.

 

* * *

 

 

By the time Morgana set her plan in motion she was on edge.  She was breathing quickly and shallowly, behind the privacy screen wearing Arthur’s sweaty clothes and chainmail. She said the words when she heard Gwen’s footsteps approach the room.  The Mage Stone was in the pouch tied around her neck on a long chain.

“Arthur!” Gwen was very surprised to see the top of his head above the screen in Morgana’s chambers.

Morgana smiled to herself _.  It worked!_   She came out with one of Morgana’s dresses around ‘his’ arm.

Morgana impersonated Arthur’s awkward way, “Oh, I… Morgana asked me to find one of her dresses for her.”

Gwen didn’t believe ‘him’ but was too polite to challenge ‘him’ beyond saying “Really?”

Morgana channeled Arthur’s ineptness, “Yes, um, I’ll just take it to her.”

It was strange to see how Gwen’s demeanor changed in the presence of ‘Arthur’, she was more nervous, fidgety with her hands, she would fix her hair and clothes.  She was conscious of how she looked, in a way she certainly wasn’t in Morgana’s presence.

_She likes him too._

Morgana felt her heart sink just a little.  She already knew that she didn’t have a chance with Guinevere.  Since Morgana had kissed her, Gwen had been uncomfortable and distant as much as possible without neglecting her duties.  Things were changed, and Morgana mourned not only the loss of her love, but the loss of her best friend too.

_But Gwen doesn’t know that I’m not Arthur._

_No, that would be wrong!_

_No one will know._

_I just want her to kiss me because she wants to.  To look at me like she desires me._

Morgana’s plan took a sudden detour, “Actually, I was just looking for an excuse to come by here and talk to you, Gwen,” ‘Arthur’ said.

Gwen was taken aback.  “Really? Ummm… why?”

“Because I like you.” She let those words fall heavy on the silent room, “You’re kind, and loyal, and beautiful…”

Gwen’s eyes widened in shock.  ‘Did Arthur really just say that’ was what she seemed to be thinking.

“Just being around you, makes me feel better,” Morgana continued, “Like I want to strive to be better, to win your heart.”

Gwen’s jaw dropped open, “I don’t know what to say… I’m a maid.”

“So, what?” Morgana moved closer and took Gwen’s hands in her own.  “When I rule, maybe it won’t matter, I can change the rules.”

“Arthur,” Gwen was shaking her head, “I…”

Morgana played out her fantasy of so long.  This time when she embraced Gwen and sort out her mouth, she was met halfway. Gwen reflexively closed her eyes at the sensation.  She smiled her approval before looking back into Morgana’s eyes, there was a longing there.  Morgana claimed her lips again, a passionate open-mouthed kiss.  She tasted Gwen, probed her mouth, ran her fingers through her hair. She let her hands roam Gwen’s back, touching her through her gown. Morgana had to restrain herself from moving her hands to Gwen’s bodice.  She reminded herself that Arthur was far too cowardly in his romantic life for such a bold gesture, and Gwen would likely find it too much too soon.

Gwen broke away first, a healthy blush creeping up her cheeks. 

“I… umm… Morgana could be back any minute,” Gwen said with her eyes downcast as she shifted her weight between her feet.

Morgana accepted that this was all she would ever have. She regretted nothing.

Morgana agreed, “You’re right, um, I have to get back to persecuting terrified villagers.”

Gwen pulled a face at that comment.  That last statement smacked of Morgana, not Arthur.

“Guinevere, it’s always a pleasure, I’ll stop distracting you from your many duties.” Morgana bowed to Gwen, not being sure what Arthur would have done in such a circumstance and left quickly.

_He’s a prince, anything he does will be fine._

Morgana smiled to herself.  Gwen’s lips were so soft, and she tasted like mint.  Her hair felt so good, spilling out between Morgana’s fingers.  Her mouth. She had reciprocated with an unexpected enthusiasm.

_Because she thought I was Arthur._

Then Morgana felt bad.  It wasn’t fair to Gwen to deceive her.

_It was goodbye.  Gwen will never love me, I just wanted a little goodbye._

_Nothing about any of this is fair, I might burn tomorrow._

Arthur’s horse wasn’t fooled, even if everyone else was.  He was not happy to have an unfamiliar rider.  But Morgana had always been good with horses and was an exceptional rider herself.   She didn’t need to talk to anyone, guards stepped aside when they saw ‘Arthur’ coming.

She made for the woods outside the castle wall to the south.  There was a clearing she liked to sit in sometimes.  She moved a rock and dug a hole adding all her goodies inside a nap sack.  Morgana breathed a sigh of relief, no one would find any evidence she was up to sorcery.  But she was still terrified that she might betray herself if she couldn’t contain her nerves, like when she set her chambers on fire because of her dream.  Aridian scared her beyond the telling of it.  He was stern, with the kind of cold stare that made her shiver.  How many people had he burned at the stake?  She couldn’t allow herself to think about it.

The glamour was broken the moment she took the Mage Stone off.  No longer Arthur, not the prince, not a man whose authority would not be questioned, who could walk around with sword on hip.  She was just her.  She slipped on her plain green dress, and left her hair flowing. 

She was back at the castle gates soon after.  No one had seen her leave.  But she was leading Arthur’s horse back. So, when Morgana said he personally asked her to take his stallion back to the stables no one questioned her, or why she had a knapsack containing Arthur’s clothes, it didn’t alarm anyone into thinking she was up to sorcery anyway.

The real Arthur was in his chambers chowing down on lunch.  She had the cooks make a special three course feast for him of all his favorite foods.  The easiest way to get Arthur to sit still, she’d known that for years!

Morgana returned to her chambers.  It was dark when Aridian summoned her for questioning.  Morgana had naively hoped that Uther’s beloved ward might escape such treatment, but she was wrong.

 

* * *

 

 

Morgana was about to be questioned by Aridian for the second time.  That was a universally bad sign.  She tried to control her breathing but couldn’t, she gulped.  She kept examining the stone floor.

_He knows.  Somehow, he knows._

She was led past the dungeons, serving as a powerful reminder about where she was about to end up.  Morgana glanced up and her eyes met a terrified Gaius.

_How could they!_

Gaius looked so tired, and scared, and vulnerable, in a way that made her want to scream and hit them.  _He’s an old man and a healer of the sick!  Have you no decency!_

Morgana didn’t believe Gaius was a sorcerer.   But she couldn’t make sense of the amulet they found either.  He could have kept it for sentimental reasons?  So many loved ones had been lost in The Purge, similar to how she had kept her mother’s necklace?

 

* * *

 

 

Aridian’s words bothered her.  But it was that cold unsettling stare that made you feel as if he were peeling your skin off a strip at a time.  Until you were exposed, and writhing in pain.

His intention was to intimidate her, and it was working.  He was clanging chains and other torture devices behind her head as he asked his questions.

_Breathe._

The more she spoke, the more she convinced him of her guilt and Gaius’, she could feel it.

_Stop talking._

_Breathe._

 

* * *

 

 

Uther came to her that evening.  He’d scarcely let go of Morgana since Aridian had held a dagger to her throat.  Morgana was expecting him.  She was in truth very shaken up by what had happened.  The interrogation even more than the weapon.  If Aridian was a sorcerer the whole time, she couldn’t understand how he could do that to other sorcerers, burn them, people like himself, repeatedly, for years.  But then, he did seem an unusually cruel person.

Uther lit a candle and left it burning on her window sill.  He came and sat on the bed and caressed her face to wake her. Morgana wasn’t sleeping, but she pretended to be.  Once she opened her eyes, Uther began to touch her hair.

“I’m so sorry,” He said.

He seemed genuine.

Uther’s voiced contained a pained anger, “I should never have trusted that… creature!”

Uther pulled back the covers and lay on top of her.  He was clothed, as was she in her nightgown.  He wanted comfort.  He didn’t remove her bedclothes straightaway as he usually would have.  He wanted to kiss and cuddle first.  Morgana hated herself for finding his touch soothing, since she was so on edge.  Then she kept reminding herself that Uther was the reason she’d just gone through all this horror, and then she’d fantasize about pushing him away.  She didn’t though.

He’d been coming to her a lot of late, since he found out he’d bedded a troll.  Uther felt he had something to prove since the whole castle had been laughing at him.  But his movements had been more punishing, as he poured his anger into her, not that he specifically blamed Morgana, she pointed out that both she and Arthur had tried to tell him.

Tonight, he was gentle.  He took her gown off, and touched her neck, traced her collarbone, circled her nipples, ran his hand along her stomach and through the hair between her legs, which almost felt nice.  The touch with just his hands was more enjoyable to her than when he penetrated her with his sword. He rubbed her mound with his fingers.  Morgana tried to show him that she enjoyed when he touched her there, maybe she could teach him not to do some of the more painful things that she really didn’t like.  He slipped two fingers into her, in and out in quick motions.   He began to touch himself.  He saw Morgana watching him.  Uther took her hand and placed it on his shaft, with his hand on top to guide her.  She did as he wanted.  He didn’t grip really hard, his pace was not fast.

He moved to sit up next to her now.  Morgana thought for a moment that perhaps he wasn’t going to put it in her.

_Wrong._

He took her face in both his hands, pulling her up to his lips.  She responded.  Then his hands pressed on her shoulders, pushing her down. 

“Kiss my body,” He instructed.

Morgana pressed her lips to his neck, then down his chest, hair and all.  His skin was a little salty.  He kept pushing her shoulders down.  When she got to his stomach, she realized where this was going.

_He wants me to kiss…_

Morgana closed her eyes and pressed her lips to the head of the snake.

She felt Uther’s hands on either side of her jaw, guiding the snake into her mouth.

“Just suck, no teeth,” He ordered.

She could only nod her response since he was already forcing his way in.

He grunted his pleasure at the feel on her warm, wet mouth on his pulsing sword.

Morgana tried to suck, but it was so big, and she felt like she would choke.

He pulled back a little, to her relief, only to thrust into her mouth again.

It didn’t hurt the way it did whenever he repeated drove himself into her lower opening.  But she didn’t like it, there was no pleasure for her.  She felt degraded.

“Suck harder, use your tongue.”

Morgana tried to do what he wanted.

His hand on her head, forced her to bob up and down, he kept forcing himself in so far, Morgana gagged at one point and thought she would throw up. Then he added his hand to hers, to stroke his shaft at the bottom while the head was in her mouth.  He kept changing the pressure, harder at the base.

He began to moan now, and Morgana hoped it wouldn’t be long.  He pressed farther into her throat, and she felt him shaking a little.  His hand used more force, he ended up displacing her hand, which she didn’t mind.  He gripped her ears and thrust hard, exploding into her mouth.

Morgana started to choke.  She hadn’t been expecting it, and the goo seemed to get in her windpipe.  And it tasted awful. 

She coughed and tried not to be sick.

“Swallow it down,” He told her.

Uther rubbed a comforting hand on her back, “Not bad for a first try.”

Morgana got off the bed and poured herself a cup of wine, which thankfully masked the taste.  

She gulped an entire glass standing.

She pushed back the tears in her eyes.

_Next time, I bite him._

Uther patted the bed for her to come back to him, which she did.

His hand went back between her legs.  The other to her breast.

Morgana laid flat on her back and closed her eyes and pretended to be somewhere else.

In Arthur’s body, kissing Gwen again.  But in her fantasy, Gwen looked embarrassed, but also devious, when she would begin to disrobe.  And Morgana would take a perky nipple between her lips and suck ever so gently, until Gwen’s head would fall back in bliss, and sounds of pleasure would sound in her throat.

Then she saw Aridian looking at her kissing Gwen, and he would shake his head and point, “Witch!”

Morgana sat up suddenly startling Uther.

“What’s wrong, My Love?” He asked.

Morgana took a few moments to catch her breath and reorient herself.                                         

“What would you have done if Aridian had accused me of being a sorcerer?” She looked Uther in the eye to see his honest reaction.

He looked away, thinking, “I wouldn’t have let him hurt you.”

Morgana would not be dissuaded, “What if he had evidence, and witnesses, all saying I was a sorcerer.”

“I would never let you burn,” Uther admitted, pulling the hair off her face, and capturing her mouth, he tried to show his love for her in his touch and his actions.  But she hated his touch, his taste.

But she felt relieved to hear him say that, then she hated herself for feeling relieved.

_It’s easy to say that now that you know Aridian was a liar._

And she felt Uther was making a special case for her, like anyone else in her position would die.

 _Sorcery is either universally bad or it isn’t, how could he justify sparing me where so many others had been killed?  Unless he has no principle?_   It was hypocritical.


	9. Sins of the Father (2x08)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**A/N:** Okay, so I made a very slight change to the episode. In the show Morgause leaves the bracelet, for Morgana overnight, talks to Arthur in the morning and rides off, before Morgana wakes. Here, I have Morgana wake and talk to Morgause, before Morgause talks to Arthur (and enchants his horse) before she rides off._

Her golden locks tumbled out of the helm and Morgana was speechless. _A woman_.  The whole dining hall was stunned into silence.

Morgana had never seen a woman dressed in armor like that, taking on the guards.  She knew she should feel concerned for Arthur who had just accepted her challenge, but Morgana was intrigued.  A part of her wanted to clap and cheer for this gallant stranger.  Not just for making such an entrance, but for defying a world that would have told her not to pick up a sword.  For being brave and never accepting her place of meekness.  For being bold, for being an inspiration to well… Morgana for one thing. 

“I am Morgause.”

 

* * *

 

 

Morgana was only half listening to Gwen keeping her eyes attuned to the mysterious blonde, Morgause, practicing down in the yard outside her chamber window.  Morgana was amazed at her grace, her beauty, her ferocity, her strength.  _A dual to the death though… with Arthur.  Why on earth would she challenge him so, even if she believed she would win?  What was there to gain?  Why would Uther even allow it?_ He has only one son and heir, why risk his life for pride.  Morgana cared little for the knight’s code and considered its rules regarding honor to be somewhat ridiculous.  _What honor was there in dying for nothing, for the sake of not looking like a coward?  Arthur had nothing to prove.  Perhaps Morgause did?_

Morgana had first picked up a sword when she was six.  Gorlois had relented his initial discomfort once Morgana challenged him to a test of wills. He had no son and had enjoyed teaching her himself.  She had gotten quite good.  When she first arrived in Camelot, she would beat Arthur when they would play fight in secret.  Uther had put a stop to it though when he found out.  Morgana had given Arthur a concussion and Gaius had ratted them out.  Uther took her sword, and her breeches, and threatened bloody vengeance if she crossed him on this.  She had continued to defy him.  But without anyone to practice with, or a sword her skills had rusted.  Arthur had gotten better and his expertise at fighting begun to exceed her own.

This woman, Morgause, had probably fought against worse odds than that, and had succeeded.  Morgana wanted to meet her, to talk to her, to hear her story, to understand, and most of all to learn from her.

Morgana was filled with a sense of impending dread over the fight though. 

Morgana had a whole nest of serpents in her stomach, keeping her up all night.  She had been too afraid to retrieve her goodies she had buried for safekeeping during the witch trials.  So, she didn’t have the Mage Stone for comfort.  Her sleep was troubled, she woke in sweats.  The visions of Uther and her mother had faded now, much to Morgana’s relief.  They seemed to have stopped once she had discovered the affair.  She couldn’t explain why.  Perhaps Uther had stopped thinking about his liaisons with Vivienne? 

 

* * *

 

 

Morgana stormed into the throne room, “This is madness! Arthur could die!”

Uther was watching the courtyard from the window, he barely glanced at her, he had a goblet of wine in his hand, “You really think Arthur will lose a dual to a woman? Don’t be ridiculous.”

Uther’s dismissal of the threat of Morgause annoyed her.

Morgana countered, “She killed five knights.”

“None nearly so good as Arthur,” Uther was nonchalant, sipping wine from his goblet, “Besides if he loses to a woman he won’t be fit to rule.”

_I’d prefer Arthur to you!_

“And who will rule after you then?” Morgana challenged, “If you keep risking his life, one of these days you might not still have a son, and then what?”

He paused, and then Uther glanced at her in a strange way.

“I’ll cross that bridge if it ever comes to that,” He said angrily, nervously, but Morgana could see it in his face that what she said had landed a blow.

Morgana continued in her warning, “If you keep making him fight, especially needlessly, that day will come.”

“Leave me,” Uther’s anger now seethed out of him rather than raged, “You are _not_ my Queen, I don’t accept your counsel, go to your chambers.”

“He’s your only son and heir, you’ve got no one else, Uther,” Morgana trailed off deliberately, “Think about it.”

Morgana knew how to make an exit when the situation called for it.  She allowed her footsteps to noisily bounce off the stone floors, and exaggerated her hip sway, as she walked away from him, presenting a confidence that while he had ordered her away, she had managed to disturb him, not that he would admit it. 

 

* * *

 

 

The dual was all set to begin the next morning.  Morgana found herself searing mad at Uther for this idiocy. 

_Just tell Arthur he doesn’t need to do this._

_Better yet, call off the fight, you’re the king, you can do it._  

Uther's satisfaction derived from public displays of Arthur's bravery and prowess made her feel so angry. She couldn’t even look at him, even though Uther was standing next to her as the formalities of the dual proceeded.

The dual began.

Morgana felt her stomach clench.

Every moment of the dual between Arthur and Morgause was brutal.  Morgana felt the intensity of it, the emotion, the fear, the anger. Morgana couldn’t explain how she felt it, but she did, when the warrior woman was cut by Arthur dropping her sword, Morgana felt the pain in her right arm in the same location.  When Morgause knocked Arthur to the ground and placed the blade over his heart, Morgana’s chest seized in fright the way Arthur’s must have.   

She held. _No, Morgause, please don’t do it!_

_What is Morgause saying?_

_Mercy._

Relief.  Morgana finally allowed herself to exhale.  No one was dead.  Thank goodness.

The crowd were almost silent, as if stunned.  Morgana had seen it at a jousting tournament not long ago, when the crowd favorite heavily expected to win is suddenly unhorsed by some nobody, or and the spectators are annoyed or sad, and forget to applaud the champion.

_A woman just beat Arthur._

Morgana counted herself among the astonished.

 

* * *

 

 

Morgana couldn’t shake the feeling that Morgause was familiar somehow, even though she couldn’t recall ever meeting her.

Morgana wanted to know everything she could about this dashing and enigmatic visitor.  She decided to visit Morgause’s guest chambers.   Morgana knocked and let herself in, the room appeared empty, until Morgause stepped out from behind the screen.  The blonde warrior seemed immediately put out by the intrusion, weary that Morgana was hostile, which led to her stumbling as she introduced herself.  The mysterious blonde replied that she knew who she was. Morgana checked the older woman's injury from the fight wasn’t serious.

“You look tired,” Morgause observed her disheveled appearance.

She felt anguished about her latest nightmares, “I haven’t been sleeping.”

Morgause became comforting and warm so fast, “I know from myself, how troubling that can be.”

“Could it be that we’ve met somewhere before?” Morgana asked.

The blonde warrior indicated no, but said, “I’m glad we’ve met now.”

She couldn’t say why it was exactly, but the bracelet on Morgause’s wrist glistened in the light and Morgana couldn’t help but feel it was also familiar, not to mention out of place with the rest of her masculine attire.

“That’s a beautiful bracelet,” She commented.

“It was a gift… from my mother,” The blonde woman spoke very softly, “Please, I would like you to have it.” Morgause slid the jewelry off her wrist and held it out in offering to Morgana, “It’s a healing bracelet it’ll help you sleep.”

Morgana was stunned this stranger would even consider giving her something so precious, “I couldn’t.”

Morgana felt the need to get out of there, so she said that she would leave Morgause, so she could get some rest.

The older woman called after her, “I hope you will remember me fondly.”

It struck Morgana as such an odd thing to say so quickly, when they had only met because Morgause had nearly killed her… friend.  But the older woman very much meant it.

 

* * *

 

 

Morgana was on a narrow boat shaped like a fish in profile, with a marked point at the stern. She wasn’t sure where she was, there was water as far as the eye could see in every direction.  It was a misty morning.  Suddenly Morgana turned and Morgause stood on a small island, of green grass and rose bushes.  The blonde enchantress wore a deep red dress and had her hair out and flowing, she stood statue still and waited until Morgana’s boat somehow floated to the bank.

On closer inspection of Morgause, a serpent was wrapped around each of her arms, and in her hands, clutched together she held a silver chalice. 

Morgause held out the chalice, “Drink,” Was all she said.

Morgana thought it was wine, but when she brought it to her lips it was milk and honey. She kept drinking the sweet liquid tasted amazing. Morgause ran a hand over the back of her head while she drained the cup.

Morgana looked up at her when she finished.  The beautiful blonde smiled, then cupped Morgana’s face with her hands.  Morgause’s big brown eyes held the look of longing.  Morgana’s tummy fluttered, she wanted to cry tears of relief, she felt so happy.  Morgana leaned in to bring her lips to Morgause’s…

 

Morgana woke suddenly.  Gwen told her it was midday.  Morgana saw that their mysterious guest had left her beautiful bracelet for her to keep.  She knew it was no coincidence that she had slept through with no nightmares.  As for the dream itself, it was strange, but she felt that Morgause was asking for her trust.

Morgana knocked on the door to her guest chambers and entered. The blonde warrior was just putting her armor into a chest.

“I wanted to thank you,” Morgana spoke getting the other’s woman’s attention, “The bracelet, it worked. I slept so well.”

Morgause smiled kindly, “I’m glad.”

She realized she hadn’t really thought of anything else to say she just wanted to be around Morgause.

“You're an amazing knight,” She exclaimed.

“I thank you for complimenting my skills,” The older woman said cautiously, “But I am not a knight, the Church will not allow a woman to take knight’s vows.”

 _More injustice, and not just in Camelot_.  Morgana chastised herself for her error.  She should have been aware. Her verbal response was sheepish to cover her embarrassment, “Oh, of course, yes. You are a wonderful fighter, I haven’t seen many people beat Arthur.”

Morgause smiled in a satisfied manner, “I imagine a bit of humbling will do our Dear Prince Arthur some good.”

She smiled too, since the danger was now passed, she could see that the warrior woman was right.  A reminder of his own fallibility might actually help Arthur to be a better leader.

Morgana found a way to flesh out the conversation that wasn’t wholly frivolous, and began her probing, “It must have been difficult to learn to fight?  Who taught you?”

The blonde shook her head in disagreement, “On The Isle, we do not tell boys and girls that they cannot be as they choose.”

She came closer to Morgana, offering the brunette her hand, inviting her to sit on the bed beside her.  Morgana happily obliged.

Morgause continued, “If a boy wishes to watch children or learn singing, he can do so without fear of laughter or censure, if a girl chooses a sword the best fighters will teach her.”

She was amazed, she could hardly imagine such a world existed anywhere.  It seemed so far removed from everything she had ever known.

“Your mother Vivienne was born on The Isle,” Morgause started to say, snapping Morgana out of her head.

“You knew my mother?” Morgana almost felt her heart stop in her chest.

“Oh yes,” Morgause stated plainly, “She was a great healer, the best, really.”

“She died when I was five, I have so few memories left, my father found it too difficult to speak of her,” Morgana was captivated, “Please tell me all that you know of her.”

Morgause, put her arm around Morgana, a surprising gesture for so recent an acquaintance, but it didn’t feel too soon or awkward, it felt right.  Morgana felt herself relax and take in Morgause from closer inspection.

“Vivienne was full of life, very… passionate about people about helping others.  She didn’t accept that she couldn’t be as good as any man, she was… very confident, and very strong.”

Morgana couldn’t help but smile, that information warmed her.  Morgause gently brushed her hand over Morgana’s cheek. Then she went back to sitting calmly next to Morgana as if such an intimate gesture had not occurred.

“She was one of the best riders I’ve ever seen,” Morgause added, “No matter how strong of a desire of a horse to be free, she could tame them, she was never thrown.  Some villagers thought she could talk to animals.”

Morgana herself loved to ride, but she didn’t know this about her mother, it made her feel closer to know that they enjoyed the same things.

“Caring for others was her passion though, she studied a long time to learn the healing arts on The Isle, but learning from others only takes one so far,” Morgause observed, “Vivienne had a special talent, she began to experiment, to invent, she came up with new remedies, diseases that used to always kill no longer meant death, she was known far and wide.”

Morgana remembered the necklace, “Did she use magic?”

The dtranger paused momentarily to gauge Morgana’s reaction, “No, she didn’t have the gift.” Morgause must have seen the flash of disappointment in Morgana’s eyes, she quickly added, “She used her many talents to save lives though, countless lives.”

“Could you teach me?” Morgana asked surprising herself.

“I am not a healer,” Morgause contemplated, “But yes, I can take you to those who can.”

Morgana nodded, feeling happy.  The chance to do something meaningful.

The older woman segued the conversation, “I heard there were witch trials in Camelot very recently.”

Morgana’s face fell, her eyes focused the ground, “Yes, it was awful.”

Morgause became serious, but still kind, “I can imagine how it must have been for someone like you.”

Morgana was confused as to the older woman’s meaning, “Someone like me?”

The blonde warrior smiled briefly, then clarified, “Someone with your gifts,” She leaned closer to Morgana, gently reaching out to take her hand.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe, she pulled her hand back, she felt naked and exposed, Morgana madly thought of a lie, a denial in her head, but when she looked back at the older woman, she knew there was no point.  Morgana knew she had been silent too long, which only damned her further.

Morgana shook her head in disbelief, “How?” Was the only word she managed to say.

Morgause took a step forward to reassure her, “We of the Old Ways can sense the ability in others.  Morgana, you are very lucky.”

She scoffed her doubt at such a statement, “Lucky!” Her derision came to the surface, “I live in Camelot! I fear for my life every day.”

Morgause nodded sadly her understanding, but she added quietly, “It doesn’t have to be like that.”

Morgana realized this might be her chance, “Could you take me to the Isle of the Blessed?”

She immediately began to berate herself inwardly.  _I can’t leave.  Uther will lose his mind._   She didn’t want to consider exactly what that might entail.  If she told Arthur she was running away and left a letter explaining it was her choice and not to try and find her.  If she confessed to having magic?  No that was too risky, in case they found her.

“I could,” Morgause agreed in response to taking Morgana away, “But what I meant was, Camelot doesn’t have to be a place where magic is outlawed.”

Morgana sniggered petulantly, “It does while Uther rules,” She tried to explain to the blonde woman, “I have tried to reason with him, but he doesn’t see sense,” She repeated, “Not where magic is concerned.

Morgause nodded again, “ _While_ Uther rules, that is true enough.”

Something about how the older woman said that last sentence made Morgana nervous.

The brown-eyed champion spoke with passion and conviction, “Would you like to live in a world where people like you and I don’t have to hide? Don’t have to fear, where magic could be practiced openly?”

Morgana thought for a while, it seemed almost inconceivable, since for so long there was nothing else in Camelot, but she had always maintained a hope that Arthur would not rule as Uther does, that he could change things.

This talk itself was treason.  She glanced around nervously to ensure no one was listening or watching.

Morgause recognized Morgana’s reticence and let the conversation drop there, suddenly changing the topic, “I made Arthur agree to accept a challenge from me.”

Morgana let her confusion show on her face, “Why would you do that?”

The older woman was prepared, “Because he needs to know the truth.”

“About what?” Morgana was intrigued.

Morgause gazed intensely at Morgana as if searching for her very soul, “About how his mother really died.”

Morgana gasped, “What do you mean _really_ died?” Morgana was having that sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.  Morgana attempted to clarify what she thought she knew, “She died giving birth to Arthur, didn’t she?”

Then Morgana waited.

“Yes and no,” Morgause chose her words very carefully.  “Igraine and Uther tried for many years to have a child.  He gave up hope before she did.”

Morgana couldn’t help but pry, “What do you mean?”

Morgause enlightened her, “Uther sort out the Priestess Nimueh, he begged her to use magic to give him an heir, a son.”

“He didn’t!” Morgana said out of shock and disbelief.

Morgause didn’t miss a beat, “Nimueh said she could use magic to create life, but that magic so powerful knows no master, to give life, a life must be sacrificed.”

Morgana allowed herself to finish for Morgause, “Uther knew Igraine would die, but went ahead with it anyway?”

Morgana could scarcely bring herself to believe this even of Uther, even as she was saying the words.   She believed Uther was responsible for many bad things, including her father’s death.  His genuine love and sadness over losing Arthur’s mother was one of the only things that seemed real, that Uther was not so completely lost to humanity.

The older woman began to speak again pulling Morgana out of her head, “Not exactly, Uther, I’m sure you know, is used to ruling and being obeyed, he never accepted that the magic of giving and taking life was not within his control.”

“What happened?”

“Uther thought he could choose which life would be snatched in order to give him an heir.” Morgause explained, “Uther bargained for his own life, Nimueh never promised him, only that he would pay a heavy price for his son born of magic.”

“The price was Igraine, not Uther,” Morgana finished.

The older woman only nodded.

Morgana felt cold and dizzy, like she needed to sit down before she lost her balance.

_All those people.  Those people he has punished and put to death._

“That’s right,” Morgause continued as if reading Morgana’s thoughts, “King Uther is the worst kind of hypocrite. He played with fire, then didn’t like it when he got burned.”           

Morgana doubled over, her legs couldn’t hold her up, she began to drive heave.

Morgana managed to choke out some thoughts, “The great purge, he… he burned, whole families, children… villages…”

It all made sense.  Uther wouldn’t blame himself.  He blamed Nimueh, and anyone else like her by proxy.  Thousands had been killed.  Those who had nothing to do with Igraine’s death, never met her, who had only used magic for good, it meant nothing to a destroyed king who had been made to heel.

Morgana wrapped her arms around herself for warmth, comfort, she began to rock back and forth. But nothing seemed to warm her, she felt an icicle pierce through her very soul.  “How could he!”

Morgause put her arm around Morgana, and after the younger woman didn’t pull away, Morgause pulled her into a warm hug, rubbing her back with her hands.

After a little while, Morgause spoke, “Morgana, I need your help.  Together we can convince Arthur.”

“That Uther used magic?” Morgana clarified.

The blonde woman was more strident, “That magic isn’t evil. That his father is a liar.  That his mother is dead because of Uther.”

Morgana slowly nodded her head, as she caught up to the other woman’s logic, “If Arthur knows the truth, he will stop following Uther’s orders blindly, he’ll challenge him…”

“Precisely,” Morgause smirked at her.

Morgana felt almost excitement, “Arthur will allow magic when he becomes king!”

Morgause nodded slowly.

She knew in her gut that Morgause was right.  Things would be better, Arthur deserved the truth.  Uther should be exposed.

Morgana resolved, “I will help you.”

“I’m glad,” Morgause smiled, before her expression became serious as she explained her plan, “Do you know what a glamour is?”

Morgana nodded, “To appear as another.”

Morgause seemed impressed, “Yes.”

Morgana started confessing her deep dark secrets she hadn’t told anyone, “I have a Mage Stone and a spell for a glamour, but…”

“You have a Mage Stone?” Morgause was astonished.

Morgana intuitively knew she could confide in Morgause, she didn’t need years of trust worthy behavior or proof of her goodness.  Deep down she knew Morgause would guide and protect her, she would never hurt or betray her on purpose, qualities Morgana held above all else.

“I obtained it when… the Sorcerer Tauren was killed,” Morgana felt pained by her lie, but she didn’t want to tell Morgause of her own culpability in another magical person’s death.

The blonde nodded absently.

“I can do the glamour myself,” Morgause began to say, “But I think it will be better if you appear to Arthur as Igraine, so I can be with him the whole time.”

Morgana was surprised, “You want me to pretend be Arthur’s mother?” _We are going to trick Arthur._

Morgause reassured her, “I will show you the memory of what really happened to her.”

She waited expectantly.

“Not here,” Morgause suddenly seemed alarmed, “Come for a ride with me.”

 

* * *

 

 

Morgana watched Morgause from her window.  The blonde warrior spoke briefly to Arthur and patted his horse before riding off on her stallion.  Morgana waited almost an hour before announcing her own intention for a pleasant ride in the sun.  They met up at Avalon Lake closest the eastern wall of Camelot.  Morgause sat near the bank, her horse lazily chewing on some grass.  The intriguing outsider was skimming rocks over the surface.

Morgana dismounted and came over to her new friend.  Morgause signaled for her to sit.  She then took Morgana’s hand, and with her other hand gently skimmed over the surface of the water.  Instead of their reflected likeness distorted by the surface ripples, Morgana saw images, she heard faint echoing voices of Uther, of the deal with Nimueh, of Igraine learning she was carrying a child, of Uther celebrating, of Igraine in labor, of Arthur’s first breath, of the blood and life leaving Igraine’s body, of Uther’s wrath, and swearing of bloody vengeance on Nimueh, and then the beginning of the purge.

“Stop!” Morgana pulled away, she couldn’t look anymore once the visions got to the fires being lit for the first burnings of condemned sorcerers, “I can’t!” She shook her head, she tried to force back the tears.  The tremendous weight of it all was pressing on her chest.

Morgause nodded, moving her hand over the surface of the water again, and just like that, the images were gone. 

“Arthur doesn’t have your gifts, I can’t show it to him, but we could make you appear to him as Igraine and you could explain what happened to him.”

Morgana felt cold with regards to Uther.  _How could he!  He lied. He blamed everyone but himself!_

She steeled her determination, “I’ll help you in any way that I can.”

Morgause hugged her, in a warm gesture that caught Morgana off guard.  So, few people showed her such affection and only after knowing her a long time.  But it was nice, and she felt so connected to Morgause that she permitted herself to relish the feeling.  She pulled the blonde woman closer to her and took in her scent and her warmth.  She exhaled, she was struck by an incredible realization, that she didn’t have to carry all her burdens alone.  Here was her salvation, the woman she could talk to about magic, about Uther’s advances, about living like you can’t breathe.

 

* * *

 

 

Morgana waited in the shadows of the dilapidated castle.  Arthur had come to accept Morgause’s challenge as vowed.  The blonde enchantress had offered him a wish, knowing he would inquire about Igraine.  Morgana was nervous, even though Morgause had prepared her well for what she must now do.  She had retrieved her contraband two days ago, from where she had buried it during the witch trials.  She now had the Mage Stone tied to her ankle.  Morgana had taken one of Igraine’s dresses from Uther’s chambers, he still kept all her things in a chest he never opened.

The ‘séance’ took place at midnight.  Morgause lit an altar’s worth of candles.

Morgana heard Arthur say to Merlin, “Perhaps Uther’s attitude to magic is wrong, perhaps it’s not as simple as he would have us believe.”

Morgana was amazed and gladdened to hear Arthur speak thus.  Unfortunately, she couldn’t see, it was too risky.

Arthur continued, “Morgause is a sorcerer, she has caused us no harm.  Surely not everyone who practices magic can be evil.”

 _Yes, Arthur._   Morgana felt that what she and Morgause were doing here today was of the utmost importance, here was the best opportunity she’d had to convince Arthur to change his opinion about magic, and to turn his back on his father.

Merlin responded, “We don’t actually know why she’s doing this.”

She heard Morgause announce that it was time, “Close your eyes.”

The blonde woman began to speak in the language of the Old Ways.  Morgause had explained what it meant to Morgana. She had said it was possible to tear the veil between worlds and speak to the dead, but you needed very powerful magic, and even then, only at Samhain was it possible, which marked the end of the harvest season, the start of the dark half of the year. It was the wrong time of year presently.

Morgana slowly stepped down the cracking staircase wearing Igraine’s white dress with gold trim and jewelry.  Arthur stood in front of the altar with his eyes closed.

Morgause created a distraction by conjuring a wind, to make it seem as if Igraine’s spirit was entering the destroyed castle.

“Arthur, Arthur,” Morgana called to him.

The look in his eyes when he saw her, made her heart break.  She knew the glamour had worked.

“Mother,” He seemed overcome, she could hear his rapid breath.

“My son,” Morgana moved to embrace him, as she felt a mother would to her long, lost child.  She threw her arms around his neck and held him tight.

She had memorized what Morgause told her to say but tried her best to convey the emotion behind it, “When I last held you, you were a tiny baby,” She pulled back, but kept a grip on his arms, “I remember your eyes.  You were staring up at me.”

Morgana felt she would cry, seeing Arthur’s expression, “I only got to hold you for a little while,” Morgana began to caress his cheek with her hand, “But those few moments were the most precious of my life.”

Arthur’s expression conveyed pain and sadness, and guilt, “I’m so sorry,” He said.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Morgana consoled him.

Arthur disagreed, “It was my birth that caused you to die.”

She was sad to realize Arthur’s burden, she interjected adamantly, “No, you are not to blame.”

Arthur raised his expression, trying to control his emotions, “I cannot bear the thought that you died because of me.”

Morgana grabbed him into her arms, as if her gesture alone could take away his pain, she held him firmly against her lithe body, “Do _not_ think that. It is your father who should carry the guilt for what happened.”

She felt Arthur try to pull back, he was shocked by her words, “What do you mean,” He turned solemn.

“It is not important, what matters is that you lived,” Morgana held back tears as she held him. Morgause had fed Morgana this line, knowing that it would make Arthur more concerned.

“Why should my father feel guilty?” Arthur moved to speak face to face.

“It is better left in the past,” Morgana instructed him, as she stared at the ground, tears still brimming in her eyes.

“You cannot leave me with more questions, please,” Arthur spoke pleading but maintaining his dignity.

She looked away, as if it was too painful to speak of, “Your father,” She said, “He was desperate for an heir, without a son the Pendragon dynasty would come to an end.”

Morgana demonstrated a sadness, shame at inadequacy, “But, I could not conceive.” Morgana believed that’s how Igraine would have felt, being a Queen and unable to fulfil the main duty assigned to women in her position.

Arthur didn’t understand, “Then how was I born?”

Morgana kept looking away, showed her reluctance to speak of it.

“Tell me,” Arthur insisted.

Morgana brought her eyes back to Arthur’s intense stare, “Your father betrayed me.  He went to the sorceress Nimueh and asked for her help in conceiving an heir.”

Arthur was speechless.

Morgana told him the truth, “You were born of magic.”

Arthur tried to deny it, but the slight crack in his voice showed he wasn’t sure, “That’s not true.”

Morgana came closer, their faces almost touching, as she gripped his arms again, “I’m sorry Arthur, your father has deceived you, as he deceived me.” She made sure he was taking in her words, “In order to create life a life must be taken.  Your father knew that.”

“No,” Arthur continued to deny his hero could do such a thing.

“He sacrificed my life, so the Pendragon dynasty could continue,” Morgana told Arthur sincerely, before softening her words, “It makes you no less my son, nor me any less proud of you.” She wanted him to feel a mother’s love, even if only briefly, “Now I see you, I would have given my life willingly.”

Arthur continued to shake his head in disbelief, a pained expression crossed his features.

Arthur went as if to speak, and then couldn’t, hanging his head.

Morgana insisted, “Do not let this knowledge change you,” She brought her head lower to look up into his pained blue eyes.

Morgause made the sudden wind flow, Merlin was distracted by the rustling leaves, and Arthur was looking down.  A mist formed enough to allow Morgana to slip away and back up the stairs, as if Igraine’s spirit had now left.  She waited quietly out of sight.

She heard Arthur’s cry of distress, “No.  Bring her back.”

The blonde woman replied, calmly, “I cannot, once the doorway is closed, it is closed forever,” Her tone became empathetic, “I am truly sorry you learned of your mother’s fate in this way. I can only imagine how it feels to discover your father is responsible for her death.”

She could only hear very faintly, Morgause say, “It is an unforgivable betrayal,” As she began to leave herself.

She heard Merlin ask if Arthur was alright.

 

Arthur then said tersely, “Fetch the horses we are returning to Camelot.”

She waited until they were both gone, to meet up with Morgause at the agreed upon point north in the woods.

 

* * *

 

 

Morgana found Morgause already waiting for her between two large trees.

Morgana had a sinking feeling in her belly. 

“What do you think Arthur will do?” She sought Morgause’s counsel, “Now that he knows the truth?”

Morgause paused for a moment, her lip curled at one side, ever briefly, then it was gone.  “I hope he will see Uther for who he really is, a liar, a coward and above all, a hypocrite.”

Morgana nodded slowly, but she had a bad feeling that Arthur tended not to notice inconvenient truths, but once he knew them, he was compelled to act and not in halfway measures. 

“I should get back, and see what Arthur intends to do,” Morgana’s alarm crept into her voice.

Morgause reached out to her, touching her arm lightly to refocus her attention, “I thank you, most whole heartedly, I couldn’t have done it without your help.”

Morgana recognized her brief time with her new friend was ending and was overcome with emotion.

“Don’t go,” She spoke before consciously thinking about it, “I mean… I hardly know anything about you yet,” Morgana struggled to express herself, “But I feel this… connection.”

The beautiful blonde's face softened, she took both Morgana’s hands in her own, “I’ll tell you all about myself and my family next time we meet.”

Morgana realized how sad she felt at the prospect of facing another day without Morgause, and her entire world seemed emptier for it.

The older woman smiled, she took another step forward, letting go of one of Morgana’s hands so she could brush Morgana’s hair off her shoulder.

“I do need to be off,” Morgause seemed equally loathsome to part, “But this is not the end for us.”

Morgause put a hand on her arm and gave it a squeeze.

Morgana tried to fight back the tears that were threatening to well in her eyes.

“If you ever need to talk to me, just light three candles and leave them burning on your window sill overnight,” Morgause spoke with an honesty, and sincerity that warmed Morgana’s heart. “I’ll know you need me and send a bird, you can attach a short message to the crow’s claw.”

She nodded, “Thank you.”

Morgause suddenly leaned in and cupped Morgana's face with both her hands, and tilted her head up making her look into her big brown eyes, “You are not alone, Morgana, no matter how much it seems that way.  I will help you, even when you can’t see me, I’ll be looking out for you.”

She smiled involuntarily, and tears did fall from her eyes.  The mysterious blonde held her close in a tight embrace.  Morgana clutched the older woman firmly, savoring everything about her in this moment, she breathed into Morgause’s beautiful hair, she buried her face in the blonde’s shoulder.

When they finally pulled back, Morgana placed her hand over Morgause’s, and she became aware of just how close their faces were.  The blonde glanced at her lips, hesitated just long enough to give Morgana an indication of her intent.  Her beautiful brown eyes fluttered closed and she leaned in gently. Morgana reflexively did the same and waited, until she felt the other woman's lips.  The soft contact was welcome.  Morgana amazed herself that she turned a brushing of lips into a more passionate kiss.  She opened her mouth willingly and invited the other woman’s lips and tongue to explore and dance with her own.  Her hands pulled at the blonde's shoulders to bring her closer still, she felt the warrior's strong arms holding her around her waist. The blonde woman matched her intensity and it was as if the world stopped.  And there was nothing but the two of them.  Morgana was lost in the mysterious warrior, in the taste of her, the feel, her heat.  By the time she pulled back she was dizzy and shaking and overcome with feeling. Morgana glanced at Morgause’s eyes to read what emotions lay there.  The older woman had an expression of surprise mixed in with captivation and perhaps desire.  Morgana felt relief.

“You are special, Morgana,” The blonde warrior broke the silence, “Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.”

She allowed herself a sad smile, even if she couldn’t bring herself to believe Morgause, she was glad she had said those words anyway. 

Morgana held her overflowing emotions in check, “You are… not like anyone I’ve ever met, I hope it will not be too long before our paths cross again.”

Morgause was the one to pull away since she couldn’t bring herself to let her go.   The blonde warrior mounted up and rode north.

Finally, Morgana allowed herself to cry.  She felt a profound sense of loss, as if her arm had been cut off.  She knew she was being dramatic, but life seemed like it would be more unbearable now that she had had a taste of something better.  But it also made her incredibly hopeful in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in so long.


	10. The Lady of the Lake (2x09)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**A/N:** Extra scenes take place at end of the episode, but it doesn’t really matter exactly where as this doesn’t pertain to the episode specifically, it’s just happening at the same time._

 

Morgana wasn’t sure what had gone on, but Arthur’s resolve against magic was more serious now.  He appeared to believe what ‘Igraine’ had told him at the time.  But now, the efforts to round up harmless sorcerers continued unabated, if anything Arthur was more determined.  Arthur and Uther were getting along as well as ever too.  Morgana couldn’t understand it.

Morgana felt more isolated than ever from everyone around her.  Except Morgause.  Morgana dreamed about that kiss, over and over.   Morgause was the only reason she was holding on.  Morgana longed to meet up with her mysterious warrior again.   She lit three candles in her window sill before she went to bed, and fell asleep, dreaming of the beautiful blonde with a large brown eyes. 

Morgana was just finishing her breakfast when a large black crow flew in her open widow and landed on the sill.  It squawked, before it took to flight and landed on her table before stealing a morsel of meat she had left.  There was a small scroll attached to its claw, as Morgause had promised. 

All the message said was,

_Morgana,_

_Meet me in the woods behind the castle’s northern wall, by the destroyed stone wall at midnight tonight.  If you cannot, suggest another time on the scroll and send the bird off. Tell no one and come alone._

_M._

Morgana was so excited she must have changed her clothes five times in anticipation of the meeting.  Even though it would be dark and cold, and Morgause wouldn’t see what she was wearing beneath her cloak anyway.  Morgana slipped out and waited in the woods next to the partly ruined stone wall that had been erected in Roman times and laid to waste for the last century or so.  She was almost bouncing out of her skin.

Morgause rode up on a black stallion.

“Morgana,” The familiar voice broke her from her reverie.

Morgana ran towards the blonde woman, making too much noise, but she couldn’t help herself.  She nearly jumped into Morgause’s now outstretched arms.  She held her tight.  She refused to let go.  Morgause was not put off by her outpouring of emotion, on the contrary, she seemed to enjoy the embrace.

“Are you alright?” Morgause inquired, her concern evident.

“I contacted you because I missed you, my life is not in danger,” Suddenly Morgana worried that her new friend may be angered with her, for wasting her time with frivolity.

Morgause's face immediately softened, “Then I am glad to see you. I have missed you also.”

Morgana felt relieved. She held both of Morgause’s hands in her own.  But she was betrayed by her nervousness and couldn’t quite form her words.

“I promised to tell you about your mother,” The older woman said the words for her, much to Morgana’s reprieve.

She nodded.

Morgause broke hand contact with her to brush stray hairs away from Morgana’s face.

“Vivienne was basically a mother to me.  Since I am the child of Elaine and Gorlois.”

Morgana was stunned, “My father’s first wife?”

“Yes,” Morgause said before looking intently at Morgana, expectant.

“He never spoke of her with me, a maid at Tintagel told me he was married before, but that she died in childbirth and the child died soon after,”  Morgana said the words out loud before she was able to process what they meant, “Then you and I are sisters?”

“I guess we are,” Morgause said as if the thought had never occurred to her. “It was your mother who protected my life as a baby.  She had me smuggled out of Camelot.”

“Why was your life in danger?”

Morgause told her story, “King Uther it was said, desired the Duke of Cornwall’s wife, my mother, Elaine, they almost began a war over it.”

“What happened?”

“Our father left court, and vowed the independence of the Cornish Coast,” Morgause told her, “He refused to recognize Uther as the King of Camelot.”

Morgana was stunned, “I’ve never heard about this.”

Morgause supplied the reason, “Uther has forbidden anyone from speaking of it.”

“But there wasn’t a war?” Morgana was confused.

“No, the High Priestess of The Isle of Mists stepped in, she held great influence back then, when Uther would still listen.”

“What happened?” Morgana felt her heart thudding.

“The Lady of the Lake invited Uther to The Isle,” Morgause said.

Morgana was surprised, “And Uther went?”

Morgause nodded, explaining as she went, “Times were very different then.  You know nothing except how things are now, I’m sorry to say,” Morgause reached out her hand to Morgana, to comfort her.  “Ninianne is a very wise woman, she knew how to handle anything. When Uther returned, he had forgotten all about Elaine, made his peace with our father, and married Igraine.”

“But why was your life in danger?”

“My mother was accused of adultery,” Morgause said matter-of-fact.

“Oh,” Morgana responded.

Morgause was quick to reassert herself, “But she swore she was never unfaithful, and I believe her.”

Morgana nodded silently, she was intrigued by all this new information.

Morgause went on, “There was already a prophecy that the child born of adultery between the king and the Duke of Cornwall’s wife would hold the key to the return to prominence of magic people.”

Morgana was flabbergasted, “The prophecy, that would mean…. you are Uther’s oldest child?”

“Nothing is known for certain,” Morgause said cautiously.

“You are heir to the throne!” Morgana exclaimed.

“Uther swore it wasn’t true, he is the king, his word is law,” Morgause sighed, “Besides, no child born of adultery, especially an unacknowledged girl, will claim the throne, Morgana.”

Morgause shook her head as if it didn’t matter, “One of the seers on The Isle foresaw the need to pretend I died, lest the kingdom be torn apart.  Neither Gorlois nor Uther knew that I survived.”

Morgana was amazed, “What happened?”

Morgause became happy, “Your mother, Vivienne, raised me, until I was five when she left The Isle to marry Gorlois.  My most prominent memory of her was that she was so kind.”

Morgana smiled, remembering her mother’s warm smile.  Her hugs.  The way she told stories.

Morgause continued, “We kept in contact, she would return to The Isle twice a year.  She always remembered to bring me a present.”

That’s amazing,” Morgana loved the heartfelt description of Vivienne, “I’m glad you had that…” She chose her words carefully, “Connection with her.”

“Ninianne looked after me, trained me,” Morgause stated, her expression became one of strength, “I am glad your mother left me there, it is a freer life for women on The Isle.”

Morgana felt emotion overcoming her, she wanted to hold the blonde woman.

Morgause stood defiant, “I consider myself Gorlois’ child. I want nothing of Uther.”

Morgana couldn’t help but wonder, “Couldn’t you use magic to find out for sure?”

“I could, but I don’t desire to know,” Morgause stated firmly. 

“My sister,” Morgana smiled again, before remembering their kiss and feeling guilty.  Morgause was all Morgana had been thinking of, of late, and not in a familial way.  _This means we can’t be together._   Morgana almost burst into tears right there.

_Morgause knew this last time.  Why did she let me kiss her?  Maybe she really believes she is Uther’s daughter?  Then, I’m not her sister._

Morgana would never learn if Morgause was reading her thoughts again, but she pulled Morgana in close and leaned in to kiss her.  Morgana tensed and tried to pull back. 

Morgana protested, “But we’re sisters.”

Morgause seemed surprised by her answer, “So what if we are?”

“It’s not right!”  Morgana burst out. _Why can’t Morgause see this?_

“The Isle doesn’t follow the silly rules Christianity sets out for those in Camelot,” Morgause let the derision she felt seep into her voice, “Actually, for families that are strong in magic it is often encouraged for siblings to lie together during Beltane, the children of such unions are often very powerful sorcerers.”

“You cannot be serious!” Morgana felt sick.

 “Of course,” Morgause paused upon seeing Morgana’s reaction, then lightened her tone, “You and I can make no children together, so I hardly see how it matters.”

It was how calm and matter-of-fact Morgause was that bothered Morgana.

Morgause, began caressing Morgana’s shoulders with her fingers, ever gently, waiting for Morgana to invite her to explore further.

“I, I, can’t.  It is a grievous sin,” Morgana cried, she pulled away, deliberately breaking their body contact.

Then she was running.  Morgana could hardly see, it was surprising she didn’t fall since it was far too dark to perceive a clear path.  Tears ran cold on her cheeks.  She had to stop eventually because she was out of breath.  Morgause had been left far behind by then.  Morgana then felt a pain in her heart, now she really was all alone.

She slowly made her way back to the castle after that.  Trying to go over the implications of everything Morgause had told her.

_I have a sister, well maybe. She can tell me about my mother._

Uther had an affair with her… no _their_ father’s first wife… maybe?  Morgause seemed sure they didn’t, but that prophecy threw a shadow over her assertion. _She is Uther’s child, but she hates him, so she just doesn’t want to acknowledge it._   Morgana had been so stunned to learn this, she had forgotten to tell Morgause what she knew of Uther’s affair with her mother.  Or… what Uther was now doing to her.  Morgana didn’t really forget the last part, she felt ashamed and chose not to mention it.


	11. The Witch's Quickening (2x11)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**A/N:** Extra bits added to before the start of the episode and the scene where Morgana confronts Uther after he sentences Alvarr to death. Then Alvarr’s escape happens (with Morgana drugging the guards, and Uther swears bloody vengeance on anyone who helped him, even though he knows it was Morgana, then I’ve added a small scene on the end._

It had been a week since Morgana had met up with Morgause.  She felt as if she had nothing left.  She barely wanted to leave her chambers.  She would still go for a ride.  Moonlight, the peaceful view and solitude were all that comforted her.

 

* * *

 

 

Uther happily proclaimed death on Alvarr for treason.  The blue-eyed sorcerer was dragged away, a guard holding either shoulder.  Everyone began to file out of the throne room.  Alvarr could have said she helped him, if for no other reason than to put Uther in an awkward position of having someone he cared about accused.  Alvarr could have tried to make things go easier for him, but he didn’t, he stood tall and proclaimed Uther the threat to the people of Camelot.  Morgana wanted to hold him in her arms at that moment.

Morgana felt the rage swelling in her.  Alvarr wasn’t just an amazing visionary, and committed fighter for the cause she believed in, she cared for him.  His passion inspired her.  He’d taken care of Mordred, he was organizing resistance.  When Morgana had first learned she had magic she had been too scared to do anything.  Alvarr had renewed her will to fight because it was the right thing to do, no matter what the cost.

Morgana waited motioning for the guards to leave too. The heavy wooden doors closed.  Uther had his back to her, drinking his wine.

Uther would do it again, and again, it would never end.

 Morgana broke the silence, “How many more must you kill before you are satisfied?”

Uther’s head snapped around, he thought he was alone.

But he remained calm.  He seemed to want to laugh at her, “He was guilty, he confessed his crimes, you heard him as well as I did,”

Morgana was already cutting him off, “His only crime was to defy you.”

“Why are you defending this man, he was a sworn foe of Camelot.  You know this.”

Morgana was so angry at the prospect of Alvarr’s death, while for Uther it was just any other day.

“Is it any wonder he wanted you dead?” Morgana wasn’t nearly done, she argued, “You who have persecuted his kind, day after day, year after year.”

Uther paused a moment a look of disquiet came over him, while he considered his next move.

“A year and a day ago, do you remember?” Morgana spoke first. 

 “You vowed to me on my father’s grave to listen to me more and quarrel with me less,” Morgana hated to bring up that day, but she felt this was important.

Uther seemed surprised, “I remember.”

Morgana challenged, “And yet, you break your vows.”

“I do listen,” Uther stated defensively, “I do listen to you, I just don’t necessarily agree.”

 “You are deaf to sense,” Morgana raised her voice.

Uther warned her, “ _I_ am the king, it is my opinion that reigns.”

“You call in a torturer over a puff of smoke,” Morgana found she couldn’t stop the rage pouring off her now, “You almost killed a loyal friend at the say so of that _gold digger_.  Why Gaius continues support you, I’ll never understand!”

“I had no way of knowing,” Uther retracted, afraid of her judgement.

“You require no proof to condemn a sorcerer,” Morgana cared nothing for his feeble excuses, “And none to convince you to trust a person who hates sorcery!  You are the fanatic in your hatred!”

“That’s not true!” Uther seemed genuinely rattled.

Morgana had lost her fear, “You kill peaceful druids who did nothing but give me shelter when I ran away.”

“What?” Uther was stunned, “You were abducted!” He tried to convince himself.

“No! I wasn’t,” Morgana confessed, yelling now, “I wanted to get away from you! Because I HATE YOU!!!”

“You never…” Uther recoiled from Morgana’s vitriol.

“How can I tell you?” Morgana wasn’t backing down, “You repulse me, I hate your touch, I feel ashamed of what you do to me!”

Morgana didn’t care that she was yelling, she hoped Arthur would hear. _What would he think of his chivalrous king then?_

“Morgana, I love you,” Uther softened, he seemed genuinely remorseful now, “You don’t mean that.”

“You don’t love me,” Morgana began to confess, “You don’t even…” Morgana cut herself off before she said too much.

Uther’s anger flared now, “I will hear _no more_ of this, Morgana,”

Morgana stood her ground, “Because you’re an arrogant fool.  You are deaf and blind to the very needs of the people you profess to serve and protect.”

Uther’s fury was painted across his face, he strode toward her aggressively, “I said enough!” He grabbed her wrist, but she pulled away.

“They are rising up against you,” Morgana’s voice cracked with the emotion she was feeling.

Uther turned and pointed a gloved finger into her face, he was livid, the whites of his eyes prominent.

Morgana was too upset and angry, “From this day forward I do not know you, from this day forth, I disown you.”

Uther seethed, “You will go to your chambers!”

Morgana was already heading for the door, her hands pressed against the wood, but she curled her fingers up as she turned back to him speaking with low angry defiance and a touch of sadness, “And you Uther, you will go to hell!”

_It’s done._

_Uther is a lost cause._

Morgana felt the eerie calm of someone who has just made an important life decision. _There is no going back._

Morgana knew exactly what she must do.

 

* * *

 

 

Morgana waited until late evening.  She asked Gwen for her sleeping draft and dismissed her maid for the evening.  She lit three candles and left them burning on her window sill.  Tomorrow night she would meet Morgause.  She would only need to get through one more day in Camelot.

She took the bottle of sleeping draft Gaius had made for her and went to the kitchens to procure ale for the guards.  Alvarr would not be meeting the fate of so many others.  

_There is no going back._

* * *

 

Uther knew it was Morgana who had helped Alvarr escape.  But for now, he wasn’t doing anything about it.

_I only have to survive the day._

By midday a crow arrived on Morgana’s window sill, with a scroll attached to her claw.

_Meeting midnight tonight, woods just to the north of Avalon Lake. -M_

It was written in Morgause’s distinctive handwriting.

Morgana had already written out her response,

_Will meet you as you advised. Sorcerer Alvarr escaped Camelot dungeons last night, Mordred, 8-year-old druid boy alone in Forest of Aceteir since sunset yesterday, both need safety. Please find and help them._

_\- Morgana_

She attached her reply to the crow’s foot, gave her feathered friend a little pat and set her free.


	12. The Fires of Idirsholas (2x12)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**A/N:** Scene extended from the very start of 2x12. In the episode, Morgause wakes the knights of Medhir, Uther and Arthur hear about it, it’s a few days while they ride out there. The way it occurs in my story, is that Morgause is already waking the knights, when Morgana contacts her that Alvarr escaped the Camelot dungeons the night before to meet up. The timing isn’t perfect, but if you squint it isn’t too bad._

 

Morgana left a sealed note on the table below her looking glass addressed to Arthur.  All it said was _,_

_I have gone of my own accord, please don’t try to find me._

_-Morgana_

Morgana took everything she had that meant something to her, which was precious little in the end.  Morgana arrived early for her midnight rendezvous with Morgause.  She needed to know if Mordred and Alvarr were safe.

Morgause guaranteed her that they were, and Morgana hugged her sister spontaneously, she was so grateful.

Morgause began to talk of a world without Uther, a Camelot where magic wasn’t banned. She wanted Morgana to fully commit to joining her.  Morgana admitted that she had almost killed Uther once, but had hesitated, thinking that Uther’s regard for her, would turn him around.  She knew now, that her faith in his ability to change or her ability to convince him, was completely misplaced.

“Whose side are you on Morgana?” Morgause challenged, “Are you with Uther?  Or are you with me?”

Morgana hesitated ever so slightly, knowing there was no going back.

Morgause clarified, “Are you prepared to help me bring about his downfall?”

“I am,” Morgana spoke up definitively.

Morgause smiled, before coming forward a few steps, and cupping Morgana’s cheek with her hand.

“I can’t tell you how much it means to me to hear you say that.”

Morgana smiled too, feeling very close to Morgause now, her protector, her teacher.

Morgause’s demeanor changed, her intense gaze fell to Morgana’s lips, and a look of desire traversed her face.  Morgana was ready, and willing, she was now prepared to give herself fully to Morgause.  Morgause continued to caress Morgana’s cheek, inclining her body ever so slowly so that Morgana could feel the heat from her body, and saw her lips gather. Morgana met her sister halfway, their lips locked.  Morgana lost herself in this embrace, in the comfort.  Morgause took the lead in their kissing, guiding Morgana. Morgana caressed Morgause’s tongue, tasted her, massaged, and sucked her lower lip.

It was a mild night, so Morgana didn’t even shiver when Morgause unfastened her green velvet cloak and let it fall off her shoulders onto the ground.  Morgause stopped to take in Morgana’s figure in her purple silk dress with gold arm cuff bracelets.  The blonde warrior’s eyes roamed the younger woman’s body denoting enjoyment.  Morgause’s lingering stare made Morgana want to reveal more, to strip naked for her in stark contrast to how Uther’s glances made her want to disappear.

Morgause took off the arm cuffs fastening the grey-blue diaphanous shawl on Morgana’s arms.  She dropped them on the ground, and continued to taste Morgana’s lips, her neck.  The shawl soon floated down next to the bracelets.

Morgana drew up the hem of her dress before pulling her gown off over her head.  She felt momentarily shy, as if she had presumed too much.  Then Morgause beamed, deviously, her exhilaration evident, and Morgana felt relieved.  She stood in her white shift.

Morgause made no moves to take off her own red dress off.

They kissed again, finding a rhythm. Morgana found it thrilling and soothing at the same time.  Morgause’s hands moved from Morgana’s waist, to up and down her back, and finally to her chest.  Morgause was gentle, her touch light that made Morgana feel tingly all over. Morgause slipped a hand under the shoulder strap of Morgana’s shift, peeling it down off her shoulder, then repeating the gesture with the other side.  Morgause began to kiss the sensitive flesh at Morgana’s throat.  Morgana closed her eyes to allow herself to focus on the sensations. Her lips parted slightly to suck in air to keep herself calm.

Morgause tugged at the chemise pulling it down to Morgana’s waist, and then to the ground.  Morgana stepped out of it, feeling exposed, her naked breasts catching the silver moonlight. Fully undressed except for her boots.

Morgause couldn’t contain the look of arousal in her eyes. Her hands gently fondled Morgana’s breasts, her fingertips lightly circling the brunette’s nipples. 

Morgause’s touch made her feel alive.  Morgana remained still and focused on her breathing.  Her body began to throb all over.

Morgause indicated the cloak on the ground, that she wanted Morgana to lie down on top of it, and the younger woman complied.  Morgause knelt and slowly undid Morgana’s boots.

Morgana felt a nervous excitement.  She had never been naked with a woman before though she had imagined it a lot.  She used to dream of herself lying on top of Gwen, more recently Morgause lying on top of her had become her favorite fantasy.  But the exact thing that you were supposed to do to derive pleasure eluded her.

Morgause stopped to take in her beautiful nude form.  Morgana could see that same carnal look of passion in Morgause she had glimpsed in Uther that day at the cairn.  But she wasn’t afraid this time, Morgause wouldn’t hurt her, she was sure of it.

Morgause laid down next to Morgana, propped up on an elbow.  They continued to kiss, and Morgause ran her fingertips ever slowly, and softly over Morgana’s whole body.  Her breasts, but also her stomach, her collarbone, her shoulders.  It made Morgana feel alive, and extra sensitive to her every contact.

Morgause made Morgana feel like there was nothing wrong with her and how she felt.  It was a powerful feeling, a bond of loyalty and trust.  This partly flowed from the fact that Morgause herself was so self-assured, she felt no shame about who she was, or what she desired.  Morgana found herself longing to be more like her older sister.

Morgause didn’t rush, she seemed to want to take in every inch of Morgana, so she could memorize her body.  Morgause took control again leaning over more as their mouths joined, increasingly bringing her body on top of Morgana’s. Both her hands now roamed free, gradually getting lower.

The blonde’s touch gradually made it to Morgana’s inner thigh, stroking her in lazy circles up and down, setting her nerves on fire.  Morgana felt overwhelmed with desire, she opened her legs more allowing Morgause better access.  Her breath became ragged. 

Morgause kissed a slow trail down from Morgana’s neck. She didn’t just use her lips, Morgana could feel the blonde’s tongue make small circles over her most sensitive areas.  Morgause took a nipple between her lips, and Morgana felt Morgause’s tongue tease the tip of her bosom to attention and then her lips sucking.  Morgana let her head fall back, and heard a small gasp escape her own lips. 

Meanwhile, the blonde’s fingers were achingly delicately moving towards Morgana’s lower lips.  A fingertip grazed her outer folds, ever fleeting. Morgana felt a momentary rush.  The other hand allowed the fingers to rake through the dark hair on Morgana’s mound.  Morgana sucked in a breath and held. 

Morgause knew exactly where and how to give Morgana pleasure, her fingers held the hair away exposing Morgana’s most sensitive nub, that Morgause ever lightly rubbed and encircled with her thumb.  It felt like a shockwave through Morgana’s entire core. Morgana couldn’t contain her composure any longer and now she moaned.

Morgause derived satisfaction from seeing Morgana’s gratification.  Morgause’s lips released Morgana’s other nipple that had now had enough attention, and Morgause began to kiss and suck a farther path down the younger woman’s stomach, while her thumb continued its ministrations.  Morgause’s other hand was still gently brushing Morgana’s folds at her entrance.

Morgause’s touch that had awoken a dull pulsing in Morgana before, developed into a powerful heartbeat that Morgana felt radiating out to her tips.  She felt the heat rising in her, and her excitement translating into swelling and wetness between her legs in anticipation of Morgause’s touch.

Morgause’s lips reached Morgana’s mound, and the soft touch of her thumb was replaced by her mouth.  She lubricated the area, bringing a wet heat, and her lips and tongue could now be felt, again tracing small circles with the tip of her tongue over Morgana’s engorged nub.  Morgana felt ready to burst.  Her breathing became heavier and more sounds involuntarily departed her lips. Her cheeks felt hot, she pursed her lips

“Oooh, ooh, aahhh”

Morgause kept her movements regular, not pressing harder or getting faster.  Morgause’s hand that had been stroking Morgana’s entrance, finally slipped a finger inside her, gently, halfway before pulling back.  Morgause checked Morgana’s face and listened for signs of discomfort. 

Morgana only whimpered louder indicating her approval.  Morgana was already soaked and hot and puffy with excitement, as she felt Morgause’s finger penetrate farther into her cavity.  Morgause added a second finger, again slowly, allowing Morgana’s body to adjust.  Morgana had to resist the urge to buck her hips forward in response.

Morgana had never experienced such bliss.  She had no idea that sex could even feel like this. Morgana had thought that penetration was always painful, even if only a bit, and that it would always feel somewhat uncomfortable, like being pushed farther and harder than really feels good.  She realized now that she had been mistaken.

Morgause’s touch contained only pleasure. Her fingers worked their way in and out of Morgana’s entrance, not quickly, nothing about this whole experience was rushed.  Morgause began a ‘come hither’ motion with her fingers while inside to stimulate Morgana’s bundle of nerves on the inside wall while continuing to massage the brunette’s sensitive nub with her tongue.

Morgana’s eyes closed, her jaw dropped, she gasped audibly. Morgana tried to hold on, but Morgause’s actions were too much.  Morgana’s senses became overloaded.  Boom.  Morgana’s hands grabbed fistfuls of the cloak by her sides, her stomach muscles tensed, sending her crunching forward, and her walls constricted around Morgause’s fingers. Her entire body shuddered before clenching for a long moment.  Her hips thrust forward.  Morgana felt waves of tension and release all over her body and a sensation almost like peeing.  Morgana had never felt such ecstasy.  The whole experience was intense.

She felt all the strain leave her body, and Morgana felt relaxed and spent, and lay still, feeling heavy while she tried to catch her breath.  She was light headed and her face now felt cold and clammy.

Morgause licked the fluid off Morgana’s folds.  Morgana was now painfully sensitive between her legs.  Then Morgause proceeded to lick her own fingers.  Morgana watched her, which made the younger woman feel appreciated.  That Morgause liked the taste of her.

“You’re amazing,” Was all Morgana finally managed to say in a breathy voice.

Morgause smirked, scanning the view, “Thank you for letting me touch your beautiful body.”

Morgana was stunned silent.  She didn’t expect to be thanked, hadn’t Morgause done all the work?

Morgause returned to the position beside Morgana on the cloak where they had been when they first laid down.  Morgana kissed her lips again passionately, a thank you in kisses.  Morgause returned her affections.  They remained still a long time, gazing into each other’s eyes.  Morgana could barely move she was so exhausted.

“I want to touch you,” Morgana finally managed to say, though she felt nervous about pleasing her, as Morgause clearly had more experience.

Morgause smiled kindly, “Next time.”

She hugged Morgana to her, close in to her body.  Morgana couldn’t remember a time of feeling this safe.  She closed her eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

Morgana woke to the sensation of Morgause gently brushing her cheek with her finger tips.  Her eyes fluttered open.  It was still dark.

“Do we have to go?” Morgana asked once she had woken up enough to form a coherent thought.

“You need to dress,” Morgause told her.

Morgana didn’t question the instruction and dutifully obeyed.  Her clothes were next to the cloak.  Morgause watched her keenly while she was naked, and almost seemed sad with every layer of clothing that covered Morgana back up.

Morgana sat and laced her final boot, “Where are we going?”

“ _You_ will return to Camelot,” Morgause informed her.

Morgana was displeased, “Return? I thought I was coming with you.”

Morgause shook her head, “I have need of you here.”

Morgause stood up and offered her hand to Morgana.  The younger woman accepted, grabbing her cape off the ground with her other hand.

 “I can’t go back,” Morgana protested like a sulky child. “I ran away for good this time.”

Morgause reassured her, “It will only be for one more day.”

Morgana began shaking the leaves off her cloak, before putting it back around her shoulders and fastening it.  She spoke almost absently, “What are you planning to do?”

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Morgause cupped Morgana’s cheek with her hand, causing the raven-haired beauty to look her in the eye.  Morgause summoned up her magic, she felt the flash in her eye. It took years of training to prefect, but the correct stare becomes a form of hypnosis.  She put Morgana to sleep in an instant. Morgana was still standing though, but Morgause was ready to catch the younger woman before she fell, holding her in an embrace from behind, guiding her gently to the ground.  Then, Morgause produced her staff and said the words of the sleeping spell over her sister.  Morgana was committed to the cause but didn’t need to know the particulars of how Morgause would use the sleeping spell to leave Camelot defenseless so that she and the Knights of Medhir could kill Uther.  This way Morgana couldn’t be forced to reveal what she knew or try to back out if she got scared.

Morgause picked up Morgana’s belongings from her decade-long life in Camelot.  All her younger sister had taken with her was the Mage Stone, her mother’s necklace and the parchment with the instructions for a spell to perform a glamour, and she had ridden her pride and joy, Moonlight.

Morgana laid on the ground for nearly an hour, before Morgause woke her.

“What happened?” Morgana asked.

“You are safe now,” Morgause told her, “That life that you and I want, where we don’t have to hide is at our fingertips, Morgana.”

Morgana wouldn’t let it drop, “What did you do?”

Morgause deliberately ignored the question, “Sister, you need to return to Camelot, pretend everything is fine, and go about your day.  I’ll come for you.”

Morgause caressed Morgana’s cheek once more, “This is the very last time you need ever think about Uther and fear for being magical, this is a great day, Morgana.”

Morgana was still confused but nodded.  Morgause walked her to her palfrey mare and boosted her up.

 

))))))))))))))))))))))))))))Episode happens in here)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

 

“No, you have some before I finish it,” Merlin insisted holding out the wineskin.

Morgana didn’t see why Merlin was being so insistent, but he was probably just looking out for her.  She smiled and said thank you. She took a long swallow of water. 

Morgana went back to ripping the material to make a rope. 

Merlin had genuinely tried to help her when he told her how to find the druids, and since she hadn’t been thrown in a dungeon, he obviously had kept her secret.

She coughed, it felt like something was burning her down her windpipe.  She couldn’t breathe in easily.  She bought her hand up to her throat.

She glanced up at Merlin who had his back turned.

The realization struck Morgana.

_The water._

Morgana felt her throat clench, it seared. She couldn’t catch her breath. Everything was constricting.  She continued to make gasping sounds.  She looked accusingly at Merlin.

He had tears and guilt in his eyes.

_Why?_

He’d done it on purpose.

Morgana felt panic.  Her chest began to ache, and no matter how hard to tried to suck air in, none came.  She clutched at her throat.

_I thought you were my friend?_

_Arthur’s turned his back on magic now._

_Gwen rejected me._

_Gaius has done nothing but lie to me._

_How could you?_

Merlin kneeled and tried to hold her shoulders.  She did her best to hit him to keep him back.

Merlin held her, while she continued to convulse.  She wanted to claw his eyes out but could barely move her arms.

She felt light headed, like she would float away, but it wasn’t peaceful, the pain in her lungs was pure agony.

She thought of Morgause, _please sister, save me._

Morgana knew she was going to die.

_I love you._

Everything, her whole life faded in an instant.


	13. Epilogue (The Last Dragonlord)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ THE AUTHOR's NOTE VERY IMPORTANT!!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> __**A/N:** This is the first time I am rewriting parts of an episode rather than just adding in a scene or two. Some of it remains the same.  
> After this point my story becomes original and diverges from the series. I have ‘borrowed’ some of the magical things in the series, like the mandrake root gets a cameo and in true BBC Merlin fashion I am working loosely off the King Arthur myth.  
> This bit is actually the last scene of 2x12  
> This is Merlin POV and ties off Season 2.  
> I Always felt it was kind of tacky to have a dragon that obeys you- I mean come on, a dragon is the definition of an animal that can’t be tamed- exact point I think Jurassic World got wrong too- dinosaurs can’t be fucking controlled, people!!!! So, from here on out Merlin doesn’t get to have a convenient English-speaking, fortune-telling, mode of extremely fast transport, and savior that no one else has access too- just not fair in my opinion.  
> But I liked the whole Merlin meeting his father thing- so in my version- the wound from a dragon can only be healed by specific magic, and the only person who knows the healing arts regards dragon bites/ scratches/ burns is Balinor- Merlin’s father whom had his life ruined by Uther, who has been hiding in a cave in Cenred’s kingdom, Gaius tells Merlin this, and Merlin tricks Arthur into looking for an exceptional healer (leaves the magic part out)- Gaius helps convince Arthur.  
> All of this happens same as the episode:  
> Dragon on kill rampage.  
> Arthur saves Gwen, gets scratched on chest.  
> Talk of finding the last great healer capable of dealing with wounds from dragons. Uther says they were all killed in the purge. (***Slight change to episode***)  
> Gaius tells Merlin, Balinor is his father. And he is the last skilled healer able to use magic to cure a dragon wound. (***Slight change to episode***)  
> Arthur and Merlin go to Cenred’s kingdom- find cave.  
> Balinor saves Arthur with magical healing stuff.  
> Merlin tells him he is his son, have their exchange over having magic. Cute dragon toy carving waiting for Merlin in the morning!!! (No talk of dragonlord stuff though)  
> Balinor killed the same as in episode- Cenred’s men attack them. (Side note: How is it that Cenred’s men just attack at first glance you wouldn’t be able to tell they aren’t from Cenred’s lands… seriously when are guards so gung-ho about killing before asking a single question?????????).  
> Merlin and Arthur scene back at Camelot- do you have any idea how many times I’ve saved your royal ass, still happens too.  
> So how do they stop the dragon you ask?  
> Arthur volunteers to lead the fighting force, and the moment when Sir Leon and then the others join him still happens. 

“Where will you go?” Merlin asked the Great Dragon.

The dragon seemed resigned, “I am the last of my kind, there is but one road I can take.”

Merlin didn’t trust the Great Dragon’s motives.

“What does that mean?”

“You will see,” The dragon’s voice came out low and threatening.

Merlin held up the sword forged with the old magic. 

He tried to make the dragon promise not to harm Camelot.  But there were no more deals to be made.

Merlin swung the sword, feeling a tremendous release of energy.  The dragon was free.

“Merlin,” The dragon swung back around rather than flying straight off, “I have always favored failing to learn from one’s mistakes.”

Merlin suddenly felt extremely nervous, like a trick was being revealed, “What does that mean?”

The dragon circled overhead.

“Oh, Merlin, I’ve lived a long time, I’ve heard a few prophecies, I’ve heard just as many that never came to pass,” The Great Dragon admitted, “I’ve been chained down here for 20 years, I told you whatever I needed to, to get you to trust me!”

“What?” Merlin felt like the wind had been knocked out of him.  Merlin couldn’t contain his disbelief, “You told me to let a boy die!  You told me to kill Morgana!”

“And you did it on my say so,” The Great Dragon accused, “I offered you no proof!”

“Dragon!” Merlin yelled, feeling an anger he seldom conjured.

“You are the worst kind of magical person Merlin, with your gifts, you could help us all,” The Great Dragon’s voice turned harsh, “How dare you kill our kind, and believe the worst of us, while defending the person who persecutes us.”

Merlin was stunned by the realization that the dragon hated him.

The dragon called from over his shoulder as her flew towards the mouth of the cave under Camelot’s castle, “SHAME ON YOU MERLIN!”

Those words rang out and echoed off all the words even once the majestic creature was gone.

 

* * *

 

 

Merlin had hardly been able to sleep and not just because of the giant, fire breathing menace flying over Camelot.  He had been duped by the Great Dragon into unleashing it, for revenge.  Nearly 100 people were dead or missing, presumed dead.

_I did that!_

But what Merlin had seen in the crystal appeared true.

He saw Camelot burning, he saw the Great Dragon released.

The crystal was telling him the future accurately as far as he could tell.

_Morgana wasn’t evil._

_Mordred was just a kid I almost let die._

_Then Arthur isn’t destined to be a great king, and I am not destined to protect him?_

_Just because it isn’t destined, doesn’t mean it won’t happen, I see greatness in Arthur, I can still help make him as great as possible._

_And Morgana.  I’m so sorry!  You only tried to kill a tyrant.  You just wanted to be free._

_Now I’ve released a dragon who is killing indiscriminately._

_Many better people than me have died for much less than me._

 

* * *

 

 

Merlin had met his father briefly, only to have him die.  Arthur had been healed from his wounds by Balinor’s magic.  And Camelot was still under seige by the Great Dragon. 

But if ever there lived the kind of great leader who inspires others not just to fight, but to die for him, it was Arthur.

Arthur and his twelve brave knights rode out to the grass field on the edge of the forest.  It was a full moon and a clear night.  They looked honorable and gallant, every man knowing he would likely not return.  Merlin often wondered if he didn’t know he had magic to save him, how brave he would be in their position?

The Great Dragon was a huge presence in the night sky.  Kilgarra was far too strong.  Arthur’s fierce knights threw spears, swords, lances, nothing even pierced the layers of scales that protected the dragon.

The dragon landed and sent fire in one direction.  Merlin couldn’t see, but some knights probably burned.

The dragon swung his tail and a foot, and another line of knights went down.  Arthur somehow remained on his feet, holding a long spear.  He tried in vain to stab the dragon’s chest.  Kilgarra looked amused more than scared and responded with a swatting motion that sent Arthur reeling yards in the air, knocked out cold.  Then the dragon saw Merlin, whom had been just behind Arthur.

“I got what I came for Merlin,” Kilgarra said.

“What did any of this accomplish?” Merlin yelled, questioning.

“What did locking me up and killing all my kind accomplish for Uther?” The dragon fired back, waiting expectantly.

Merlin stood his ground, even though he was terrified.  His magic wasn’t nearly strong enough to stop the Great Dragon. They both knew it.

The dragon leaned over, “A little revenge Merlin, the purest motive there is.”

Merlin shook his head fighting back his tears, “How can you expect me to believe that, after what you have done!”

“Good, Merlin, you’re learning,” Kilgarra seemed impressed, “If the Lady Morgana had come down to my cave under the castle instead of you, I’d have told her what I needed to, until she freed me too!”

 “No!” Merlin couldn’t accept his words, “No, I saw Camelot burning, if I hadn’t poisoned Morgana, Morgause would have killed us all,” Merlin tried the reassure himself as much as the dragon.

The dragon smiled, wryly, “Oh Merlin, they were never going to kill Arthur and take all of Camelot, Uther was all they came for, but if I’d told you that, you wouldn’t have made the deal to free me!”

The dragon began to laugh.

Merlin wanted to retort, but no words came, he felt tears well in his eyes, _I had no way of knowing that.  Once we were all asleep, they could have killed Arthur too._   Now he was sure of nothing.

“Being wise, doesn’t mean trusting blindly, young warlock!” The Great Dragon chastised him, “I hope you learn this lesson well now.”

Merlin shook his head, completely dismayed, “Why would you tell me Morgana was bad then?”

“Because you were willing to believe that she was,” The dragon replied simply, “If I didn’t feign a threat to Arthur, I wouldn’t have had any way to bargain with you.”

“ _You_ told me to let Uther die, multiple times…” Merlin was dumbfounded and angry.

“Yes, well,” The dragon managed a sly smile, “That was more about my personal preference, I think Camelot will be better for Uther’s downfall!”

“No, no!” Merlin felt sick, “I should never have listened to you!”

“Good, Merlin!” The dragon sounded proud, “That is the lesson I wanted you to learn!” The Great Dragon said, “You shouldn’t treat the future like it’s a done deal, because it rarely is!”

 The dragon leaned in close and spoke with authority, “Circumstances create actions, young warlock, if you hear nothing else, remember those words.”

“Dragon!” Merlin yelled.

“A dragon is not a caged bird, we cannot be tamed, Uther has now learned to his dismay!” The dragon’s voice was full of rage.

Merlin was shaking, he didn’t know what to do.  Merlin was near tears, “I can’t let you keep doing this.”

“I don’t intend to,” Kilgarra was nonchalant, “I just wanted Uther to know he hadn’t cowered me,” The Great Dragon said, “Shame he didn’t come himself, I would have liked to have had Roasted King!”

“You can’t stay here,” Merlin pointed out, “Uther will hunt you forever now!”

Kilgarra’s mouth twisted into a lopsided smile, “Ha! Let him try!” Kilgarra almost sniggered his amusement. “Uther couldn’t stop me, not now that the strongest magics have left the earth.”

Merlin had no weapons, no more threats, and no insights the dragon didn’t know better than him.

“I’m off anyway, I long for the lands where magic still lives,” The Great Dragon stretched his massive wings out showing such grand size, it was an awesome sight to behold.

 He took to the sky.  His flapping produced a strong gust of wind that almost knocked Merlin over.

“I do hope we meet again, young warlock!” Kilgarra called back over his shoulder as he flew in the direction of the moon.

Merlin had no riposte.  He felt overcome with what had happened in the last few days.

_I saw Camelot burning in the crystal, so I made a deal with the Great Dragon because I was sure Morgause was going to destroy Camelot, I poisoned Morgana on the dragon’s say so, but the deal meant releasing the dragon which was the future that came to pass, the one in the crystal.  My actions made it happen._

_They weren’t going to destroy Camelot, they were just going to kill Uther.  Isn’t that what you want?_

_You killed your friend.  No proof, because I listened to a lying dragon with questionable motives._

_What have I done?_

_I’m not the greatest sorcerer who ever lived, it was all just lies._

_Idiot!_

 

Merlin went to help his dear, sweet, brave prince, and take him back to the kingdom that was still standing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**Author’s note: *** I acknowledge that the change to this episode changes lots of stuff- but I think it’s the more left-wing point to make. To believe the worst in someone because there’s some prophecy… and to act towards them in a biased way, based on what you believe they will do in the future- is that really different from having an irrational prejudice against say sorcery???????????????** _


End file.
